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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23795251">Irresistible</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrisNicole/pseuds/IrisNicole'>IrisNicole</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Related, Character Study, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hot Eren Yeager, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Language, Manga &amp; Anime, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reader-Insert, Sad, Season/Series 04 Spoilers, Sexual Content, Slow Build, Sweet, Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:55:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>91,596</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23795251</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrisNicole/pseuds/IrisNicole</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>(Eren x Reader) (Manga Spoilers so Anime-only watchers beware)<br/>He knew he had already spent far too much time in the valley with you. </p><p>He should have been gone by now, living what were the rest of his days in isolation until the time came to return his titans to the military. But you were seraph-like not only in beauty, but in your pure nature. Everything about you was alluring to him. </p><p>He furrowed his brows at the thought, forcing himself to remember he could only appreciate you from the distance. For every angel, there was a devil after all, and if anyone in this world deserved the title of devil, it would be him.</p><p>And besides, angels and devils don't belong together.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eren Yeager/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>320</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1199</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Attack on Titan, Attack on Titan/Shingeki no Kyojin, Shingeki No Kyojin</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>In a rocking chair even older than your farmhouse, you sit, your body as motionless as the leaves on this quiet, still evening. Your fingers move nimbly in an exact routine, a blue cardigan, bejeweled with an array of different stitches extended from your knitting needles. Raised bumps and an area with small intentional holes line the pattern, and you sized the garment upon your own limbs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your neighbors’ thirteen-year-old daughter stood practically your height now, growing taller and taller at a whirlwind’s pace; she hardly fit her autumn clothes. By tomorrow’s time, you will be adding pearled buttons and tying it into a parcel with a pink ribbon.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Crack.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Huge (e/c) eyes lift partly to peer through long lashes, pretending to be focused on your work when really you were watching your guest split wood for the evening’s fire. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Crack.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The wood snapped effortlessly under the force of the axe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren was half shadow, the sun falling below the treeline to indicate dinner time was nearing. You watched as every oblique, ab, and chest muscle on his torso flowed from the light into the dark like a living work of art, brown skin so tempting to touch. Sweat poured cleanly in streaks as he worked, every move hinted toward a hidden strength. He controlled his movements gracefully, you noted, well-acquainted in body kinesthetics from his years of training. He had been splitting meter-wide trunks for the past hour, taking only one swift swing of your father’s old axe for each effort. You smiled happily at the sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You quickly returned to your work when you noticed his cool emerald-colored eyes found your spot on the porch, hoping he didn’t notice your silent admiration. He was no longer brandishing the axe, settling on returning his shirt to his torso so he could load his arms with pieces he had just split for stacking. He was finished for the day, it appeared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a quick shake of the head, you pushed back your bangs to begin collecting your own belongings. You lifted your basket of fabrics onto your hip, your long, cream-colored skirt billowing with each step. It was only natural you’d repay your guest for his hard work with a hot meal, it was best to start preparing dinner now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Inside your farmhouse, your chest soared at the site of the replenished wood pile Eren had made a point to restock for most the evening. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were three rooms, two of them being bedrooms and the last a combination of a kitchen and a tiny living room just big enough to set chairs around the hearth of your fireplace. Thanks to Eren’s efforts, light illuminated every object, brightening your face in turn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You hadn’t exchanged more than a few words since his arrival, his eyes empty like a shell when he refused to verbalize what had happened to him in the last eight years when he crossed the sea to Marley and started the Rumbling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was strange to think, but once about two years ago, in the middle of plowing the farm, you had even heard his voice in your head, informing you of the great purge he planned to commit through the power of the Founding Titan. Subsequently, the ground shook for one day straight, and a massive cloud of steam blew far in the distance. News reported that it was the disappearance of the walls. You didn’t know what was meant by purge but assumed it was in relation to the purging of the titans.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You knew little from the headlines, leaving you unsure of Eren’s allegiance with the Survey Corps after all that had happened. Prodding was something you felt wasn’t appropriate, so instead, you welcomed him to stay for a few days. At least until he could figure out what he wanted to do with his life now that the titans no longer roamed Paradis and the threat of the rest of the world was no longer present.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If it weren’t for the few “thank you”s and “hello”s, you would have thought Eren to have gone mute. Most of the conversations consisted of you blathering on about the weather or topics you found interesting. You strayed far from the past and spoke of anything other than the Survey Corps, which seemed to suffice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren never smiled and didn’t ask for anything other than a bed. He partook in chores around your family farm, which you appreciated dearly. Despite years of managing on your own, usually you had to call Mr. Goodish to handle the laborious tasks of baling hay and splitting wood for fire. You twisted your one good ankle far too many times trying to balance on your wooden foot. Eren’s presence was fortunate to say the least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Goodish was always too kind, forbidding you to even consider paying him, saying his wife would kill him if she knew he was accepting money from you. They knew of your history as a retired Survey Corps member, returning home to the empty farmhouse of your childhood when you had lost a foot in your final expedition to Shiganshina to recapture Wall Maria. Their constant fretting over you made you feel crossed at times, so it was nice to not have to spend a weekend listening to it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You began to prepare a vegetable soup for the evening, withdrawing a cutting board from one of the cupboards. It was in this old farmhouse, your heart had been born. Feeling particularly reminiscent, you gazed mutely at the scores on the chopping board, each telling their own story. They were tales of your family, your sorrows and triumphs, all of them etched in your heart and memories as much as upon the wood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As a child, you dreamt of traveling to distant shores, to see the world laid out like the most beautiful of quilts. It was within these farmhouse walls you had turned from a girl to a woman, leaving home to join the 104th Training Squad when you came of age. You had a lucky career, returning home with only a crippled leg, but you missed out on traveling to the ocean. Eight years later, you found yourself continuing to survive, but this time without the constant fear of titans looming over your head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh and Eren had come to visit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How badly you wanted to ask him of your friends, but every time you had built the courage to inquire, you took one look into the devastating demise and torture in those green eyes and turned tail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren never asked you for anything, so the least you could do was respect his privacy and provide him with shelter until he was ready to move on. Sometimes, he would disappear for hours on end into the woods which lined your family’s property and return dirtied and muddied. During those times, you wondered if he had left to permanently wander the land, but he always came back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In a few minutes, you had the house smelling like herbs and potatoes, a recipe of your neighbors. Water and butter boiled on top of the gas stove, softening the produce you had been sure to wash diligently. You turned to focus on the flecks of coriander leaf, bright green on a calming brown of the chopping board.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Footsteps approached the doorway and in came Eren, politely kicking off the dirt of his boots before entering. The chocolate tresses of hair he once had pulled back into a bun now cascaded past his shoulders, hiding his face from your vision.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You looked up from the cutting board to study him. His clothes were soiled and stained from the bark. He didn’t move from his spot at the back way entrance, almost as though he were waiting for you to begin your incessant prattling about the day, town gossip, the weather...anything really.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” you smiled benevolently, the most-intense shade of green rising to greet you. “Thanks for doing that, it really helps.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren nodded in confirmation, his facial expression impossible to read. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s a fresh pair of clothes in your bedroom,” you offered, tilting your head, (h/c) hair tumbling cleanly over one shoulder. Eren didn’t wait for you to finish, already lumbering in the direction of your parents’ old bedroom where you had laid out some of your father’s old clothes for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Were you offended? By all means, absolutely not. You were beginning to grow familiar with your peculiar dynamics with him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren was very respectful, always sure to express his understanding with simple actions rather than words. At first, you were rather practical and shy in nature around him, simply because he was like a stranger once more. Now that you had him somewhat figured out, you knew how to act and when to speak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Within the hour, the sun had officially settled and the table was set with two bowls. You watched as Eren feasted and shoveled his food into his mouth, not even bothering to blow on his spoon to cool its contents. It was like he hadn’t been fed all day, but you made sure to leave him snacks so he wouldn’t feel as though he had to ask for food. It was nice to at least see that part of him—particularly his insatiating appetite—hadn’t changed throughout the last few years.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren helped himself to several servings, which you took as a compliment. He used to ask if he could have more for every meal until you begged him to stop inquiring and help himself to whatever he wanted. You stood before he could finish his third bowl and deposited yours in the wash bucket for soaking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You could feel Eren’s gaze on you, but you pretended not to notice. You were sure he was watching how you walked, the gangly limp that now characterized your movements. Most often, people felt pity seeing you move like that, but in all honesty, you considered it a blessing. If a missing foot was all you got from serving the Survey Corps for four years, you wouldn’t mind playing your luck at a poker table a few times.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You entered your living room to toss a piece of wood into the hearth, watching the flames engulf the bark happily. A book sat waiting on the end table for you, nearly finished and awaiting your attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You poured yourself into the pages before bed, smiling brighter with each turn of the page of the mystery novel. Each page was like living in breathless rapture, the characters leaping out at you as the detective solved the crime with a twist of the plot you had never seen coming. Like a child, you read until you almost went cross-eyed, completing the book a little slower than expected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your eyes lifted to the clock. It was just past 11 at night. A loud yawn resonated from your lips, and you sunk deeper into the couch until your head landed on the armrest. It was way past your bedtime.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You hadn’t noticed it, but Eren must have gone to bed long before. You remembered him taking a seat on the floor to warm himself up by the fire for a few minutes before he left the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thinking of the fire, you peeked through your fatigue to assure the fire was well-contained within its hearth. Once satisfied, you placed yourself within the depths of the blankets, wrapping your legs tightly within the cotton. You began to read a few pages of a new book before your drowsiness took over and forced you into a deep slumber.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>The next few days proceeded much like that one, and Eren showed no signs of planning for departure. He was one of the most perplexing mystery novels you have ever attempted to read, far too difficult to solve without a little assistance from the author himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was once a time when Eren would put all his emotions on the forefront, and his moods were constantly on display for you and the others to interpret without even having to exchange words. His joy, his rage, his shock, and his misery; all these you could see in the expressiveness of his eyes, the curve of his jaw, the scrunching of his brow, the wrinkling of his nose, the creases of his cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was like this new Eren had experienced far too much grief and violence, the old was nowhere to be seen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was one morning though you felt Eren’s mood had finally decided to return from the unknown:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was so early you had to bring a lamp with you to illuminate your pathway. You decided to begin the wash a little early so you would have time to shop in town for the day. It didn’t take as long as you expected it would, now that you were responsible for cleaning two sets of clothes. Soon, you had them pinned and drying on lines in the yard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once finished, you seated yourself on your front porch, legs propped up by the highest step. You stretched forward to rest your elbows on your knees, noting the slight tear near the end of your ankle-length skirt with a tiny frown.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But your show was just beginning, you couldn’t be distracted. Your appreciation for nature revealed itself in your expression, the corner of your lips craning upward in content.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sun bloomed on the horizon, golden petals stretching ever outwards into the rich blue. It was the brilliant flower of the sky which warmed your days. Like an invitation to begin a new day, the sunrise was extraordinary.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before the rising sun, you were simply a silhouette, yet as its rays, golden and strong, touched your skin, you became every color you were born to radiate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment, your breath caught in your throat. His voice rumbled in deep thunder, like it hadn’t been used in quite some time. It scared you a little. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You returned his greeting, watching as he stood looming over your spot on the ground like he was unsure if you wanted him to join you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You patted the spot next to you with a hand. In seconds, Eren had himself seated a respectful arm length away, long legs stretched straight, spine erect, and arms folded neatly in his lap. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re up early,” you commented, voice lifting with each word. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Eren’s stare flickered over to you as cold and icy as the dew gracing the grass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His stare wasn’t intentionally cold, his face somehow lacked the mobility others had. His emerald eyes would rest on a point, even a person, and he’d hold it longer than the average person would. Others would alter their paths not to cross his and stand further back than was customary. It was like the elongated eye contact demanded a greater degree of physical separation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A soft-hearted and tender smile graced your features as you continued to look forward to the sunrise, watching as it rose to coax and kiss the hills into a blushing tangerine color.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You could still feel Eren’s narrowed, vacant eyes staring at you. You turned to face him, your lips going dry when he refused to end his staring contest. You squirmed a little under the pressure of his gaze now, a hand unconsciously rising to brush a few strands of hair behind your ear:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re always smiling,” he stated nonchalantly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well...what’s there not to smile about?” You laughed when this drew an inquisitive look on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You took this moment to study his sun-kissed features and wondered how he kept his dark locks of hair so healthy. They were pulled into the same messy bun he seemed to enjoy nowadays, and you deliberated on whether he was too scared to cut his hair or simply liked the look. A prominent jaw curved gracefully around his neck; it appeared he had shaved this morning because the stubble had been replaced with clean, smooth skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you are always smiling,” he emphasized once more in his quiet rumble. This was the most you had heard him speak in the last week, and in all honesty, it left you bewildered. “At the sun, at your books, when you’re knitting,” he paused for a moment, “at me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You thought about your answer, mouth opening and closing, then opening once more with a sigh. “I guess I just have yet to find a reason to not smile?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren scoffed at that, his head jerking to the opposite to face away from you. “There’s plenty of reasons to not smile.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you mean there’s plenty of reasons to frown, there's a difference…” You stared at his side visage, his lips pale and thin, pressed in a line. His eyes were narrowed and set on something off in the distance you couldn’t determine.  “But they only work if I let those reasons keep me from enjoying the good in my life,” you finished.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In that moment, his eyes were the fresh dew glinting in the sunlight off a blade of green emerald, huge and reflecting the old Eren you once knew when he whipped his head back to stare at you. His brain filtered your words, mulled and turned them over to decide how to react. His final response was a simple nod of understanding, arms stretching behind him for balance to stare blankly at the sunrise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sky was now equal parts blue and a chorus of grays, streaked with silvers and golds. “Will you tell me about the ocean?” You voiced, and Eren peered quietly down at your passionate gaze. He was well aware of your dream to see the ocean, but after your retirement, you remained bound to your hometown in rehabilitation. By the time you had learned to walk, there was no form of transportation, and your motivation had all but up and left you. That was a time when you truly could not find a reason to smile, but only with years of healing did you find beauty and appreciation in your life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You never did see it, did you?”  He looked to his lap as he dug through the memories of all the years he had spent on the coastline capturing Marleyan ships. He cupped his hands together as though he were gathering the essence of what the sea was into his palms. </span>
  <span>“What I remember most was how warm it was. Paradis is an island located not far from the mainland, so the gulf stream made it warm,” he stated, his fingers curling into themselves. “The salt water moved in constant waves, just like the books say, and the wind was always blowing </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>damn hard,” he traveled to a distant land, and like a leaf, he began to sway a little in his seat as though he were sitting in the ocean himself in that moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it as deep as they say?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even deeper,” he answered monotonously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And the fish?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very strange creatures. Once I dove to the floor of a shallow bank near the shore as a titan and saw what the Mainlanders called an ‘octopus,’” he recalled, a faint fire growing in his gaze. Just the slightest bit of enthusiasm emitted from his tone at the memory, “it was pretty disgusting with eight tentacles and a rounded head, but I’m sure it thought the same when it got a load of me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A tiny smile graced his lips then. Your heart lurched at the sight and your stomach churned from joy. In that moment, Eren Yeager truly looked at peace, his sun-kissed skin glowing radiantly. “Now you’re smiling,” you commented gleefully, watching as Eren raised his left hand to touch his lips before allowing it all to deflate and return back to his old, scowling self.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A feeling of gratification filled you all the way to your fingers and toes. Silence reigned over your forms, only the sound of tweeting morning doves to fill the emptiness. You must have embarrassed him, you figured, but you were too delighted to care. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You rebounded, nevertheless, “so did you get to eat lots of fish while you were there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t even get me started.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Oh no…” you watched the door to the barn smack against the ground with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>thud!, </span>
  </em>
  <span>old and dilapidated from years of wear and tear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The goats and cows casually lifted their gazes from the buckets in their pins, hay hanging halfway out of their jaws. Once determining it was only you, they continued with their chewing while you cursed and struggled to hoist the barn door over your head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything’s falling apart on me now,” you muttered, taking one last heave to finally rest the door against the barn wall. Just the other day, one of your dining chairs had caved in on Eren when he plopped himself down a little too hard. And even though you found it pretty funny to watch (you were snorting and muffling your voice as well as you could even hours after the mishap), Eren was <em>a little</em> more peeved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren was off in the woods today, undertaking whatever he normally did whenever he was in there. You were on your own for this one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You gathered the buckets of milk you had just finished bottling and walked from the barn to the house with sweat dripping from your nose. The barn work always proved itself to be difficult and with the added temperatures of fall beating down on the crowded building, you couldn’t help the pit stains that were soon ensured to begin forming. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You wobbled up the steps, struggling with the weight on your weak side. However, without too much of an issue, you had the bottled milk sitting on your porch, ready to be taken. Mr. Goodish’s son showed every two weeks to transport your milk to town for refrigeration and fermentation; today was another one of those days.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, the barn door, you had no idea where to begin. You feared the chickens, who loved to roam free when outside of their coop, would escape and wander too far like the annoying little turds they could be at times. You couldn’t waste time with the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But as the hours went on, and you found the work growing increasingly more difficult, your desperation was multiplying.  Reattachment of the hinges of the door proved far more difficult than you expected. Even with the ladder, your arms weren’t long enough to hold the nail, the hammer, and your body weight steady all at once. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You pondered calling for Eren, but soon denied the thought. You didn’t like to impede on him when he was taking time for himself. Fortunately, another presence conveniently made itself known on your farm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Miss (y/n)! Whatcha doing up there?” Mr. Goodish’s son, Marcus, appeared, red hair and freckles covered by the hem of his straw hat. A pair of chestnut-colored eyes gazed amusedly at your balancing act, immediately growing fearful when you shook like a leaf with the wind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just—trying to fix this door!” You explained hastily, grabbing hold to the doorway for support. “Trying my best, but clearly failing,” you flashed Marcus a pearly white smile which nearly blinded him with your light-hearted, self-destructive humor. He could feel his cheeks grow warm at the sight—you were indeed most beautiful when laughing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Marcus knew to keep those kinds of thoughts to himself. There were rumors of a tall brunette man who had taken residence with you, his shadowy, hair-raising appearance alarming some of the valley’s members. Many wondered what his arrival meant...an old friend from your past? Something more? Or maybe he was holding you against your will??</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of the reasons Marcus had come today wasn’t simply just to collect milk, but to prod and report back to his family what he learned, “Where’s that fellow of yours? Shouldn’t he be doing something like this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watched as your eyes danced with an unknown emotion at the mention of the stranger. You clumsily descended the ladder in a clamber to continue your friendly conversation, Marcus catching you before you could wipe out on the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” you offered innocently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No problem,” Marcus’s blush burned an even deeper shade of red.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You didn’t seem to notice his attachment to you, however. “He is a guest of mine! I didn’t want to bother him with chores I can do on my own,” you sighed out, dusting the dirt from your apron and hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Looks like something you </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> do on your own though,” Marcus commented idly, collecting the hammer from the grass beneath your feet. He twirled the tool to assess its capacity for work. “And besides, if I was your lover, I wouldn’t have left you to take on such a difficult task anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As though you had been struck with lightning, your head jerked upward to make contact with Marcus’s dark eyes. Once more, that emotion he couldn’t quite identify flitted within the depths of your face. A gorgeous laugh in all its cadence escaped from your pinkened and dry lips:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh no! It is nothing like that. He is an old friend visiting from the Survey Corps. They probably sent him to check up on me,” you waved your right hand forward as if to brush the topic along and make it seem like it was no big deal. “He isn’t even aware of this situation I’ve found myself in!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You and Marcus both turned to begin walking toward the house where the bottled milk sat idly on your porch. You offered Marcus to come inside for something to drink, but the young man was uncomfortable. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to meet this “friend” of yours. Anytime someone had caught a glimpse of him, the descriptions of him were always narrowed down to the same explanation:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That man emitted an aura of violence and rage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marcus didn’t know what happened to him. If he was a member of the Survey Corps, then surely he held witness to the deaths of many friends and had even committed countless murders on the soil of both Paradis and Marley. The Survey Corps nowadays was known to be shrouded in conspiracy along with the rest of the military—he wondered just how aware </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>were of this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just taking one look at you, Marcus would have never guessed you had spent a few years of your teenage life in the military. You were just too optimistic and lighthearted and cheery and </span>
  <em>
    <span>radiant… </span>
  </em>
  <span>But what was that emotion you keep expressing simply at the mention of this mystery man?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marcus trusted you to make good decisions in your own right, but he couldn’t help the suspicion he felt at the thought of you sharing your house with a stranger of the military. Marcus shambled to collect the bottled milk, pausing to assess your form for any signs of abuse or struggle, but if anything, you looked more brilliant than he had ever seen you before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Miss (y/n),” he bid you farewell with the tip of his straw hat. “Do you need me to come back later to help you with the—um—.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The barn door?” You adamantly shook your head to say ‘no,’ large (e/c) eyes glimmering. “You’re a wonderful friend, Marcus, thank you so much for the offer though!” Like having a knife driven into his chest, his stomach dropped. He could tell you had no idea what the word ‘friend’ meant to him because your cadence was that of a sweet melody. You waved Marcus along his way, and it was in that moment Marcus had finally figured out what emotion you seemed to be so high on whenever you spoke of your mystery guest. It was something he had never seen you express before:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Admiration and deep respect. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Things he could only dream you would feel for him, but the soldier had beat him to the punch. He would have to give up on his pursuit of you, it seemed, but he could always dream, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You watched as the young redhead returned to his horse and buggy, waving until he could no longer be seen around the shrubbery. A sigh you hadn’t realized you were holding dispersed loudly with your breath, your hand reaching up to clutch at the collar of your button-up shirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the sounds of it, the townsfolk were becoming aware of Eren’s presence. You knew of Eren’s reputation and popularity amongst the Eldians of Paradis who considered him a hero. You were also aware of those who considered him as an enemy of the state for whatever reason you had yet to discover. The last thing you needed was the world to discover the location of Eren Yeager when clearly he just wanted to be left to live in isolation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But could you truly consider it isolation? He was living with you after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You wondered why Eren had decided to come to </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>of all people, but you remembered the promise you made to yourself to respect his choices. It wasn’t a matter of </span>
  <em>
    <span>why you </span>
  </em>
  <span>but </span>
  <em>
    <span>how </span>
  </em>
  <span>you could aid your old friend in his journey.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You swayed from the heels of your laced boots to your toes for a minute, wondering what steps would need to be taken to ensure Eren’s privacy would remain protected. With one more deep sigh, you worked your way back to the barn to continue your work.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>“Could you help me with this?” Eren looked back at you from his place in front of the fire to find your arms tangled in yarn. “You see that string down by my left finger?” Eren nodded, twisting in his position to stretch and take hold of the baby blue cotton you were staring so intently at. “Grab that and pull for me, please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren complied with your request, intrigue resting over his features as he watched the tangled yarn draw up within itself to make an intricately designed blanket the length of your bicep. His eyebrows flew upward to hide within his hair, even the simplest of actions impressing him. That was one thing you noticed about Eren; he was easily impressed by anything anyone could do that he could not do himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time he had pulled a large wad of string in his direction, the yarn had grown too tight for him to pull any further. “That’s perfect, thank you,” you commented.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you do that?” He asked curiously, watching as you proceeded to flip the yarn this way and that around your forearms. It was like watching a strange dance, your wrists twisting and flopping over top of one another.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Back when I first moved back home, there wasn’t much I could really do other than sit around most days,” you began, too focused on your actions to notice the solemnity of Eren’s visage. “My mother was quite the expert knitter when I was child, so she taught me a few things until she passed away. I used to only be able to crochet little strips of cloth, they were quite sad really, but overtime, I bought a few books and learned how to make clothes—” you stuck your tongue out as the yarn grew a little trickier with each twist, growing tighter and tighter. “—like this! Pull again, please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren obeyed even quicker than before, almost like a child ready to see a magician repeat his magic so he could discover the trick behind it. He pulled once more, this time a little slower as he watched the fabric draw within itself, the tangles organizing themselves to reveal diamond-like patterns. “What is this for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s going to be a newborn’s blanket. Actually, the baker’s wife has been in labor for the last day, poor thing.” You grabbed your small dagger to separate the extra yarn, releasing your arms to begin the stitching. “This kind of fabric is perfect for removing stains and staying soft through multiple washes. Baby’s get messy sometimes, you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I see…” Eren murmured just above a whisper. He looked a little lost from your words, choosing to remain silent instead. You felt the sudden suspicion that Eren didn’t have much experience with babies, having spent his early years as an only child.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe, I’ll take you when I deliver it as a gift?” You tried, watching as Eren made no movement to neither confirm nor deny your request. “That way, maybe I can teach you how to swaddle a baby.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sparkling smile lit up your features, but you didn’t want him to feel pressured to have to do anything. It was simply an offer and nothing more, but what surprised you most was his response:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You continued working on the fabric, Eren waiting patiently and watching with mild interest. Soon, he grew bored of your ministrations, choosing to select a mystery novel from the collection you owned. You knew Eren wasn't much of a reader, but there was only so much one could do to keep himself occupied after the sun sets for the day. You warned him you had just finished reading the novel a few days ago, and it was very advanced for new readers of mystery. “It might confuse you more than anything,” you forewarned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scoffed at your insinuation, “I think I can handle it.” And like a determined child, he crossed his legs in front of the fire, hunched his spine, and dropped his head to give the book his full attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You stared at the outline of his silhouette in the fire, wondering when his back had gotten so big. Truly, Eren had grown in more ways than one. You curiously peered over the outline of his delts to his arms. Despite being relaxed, they remained prominent and served as a warning to anyone with bad intentions who might attempt to sneak up on him. You particularly noticed a rather large bruise on his left elbow, and you wondered when he ever fell or hit it so hard to make such an immense contusion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a shake of the head, you returned to your stitching, mentally punching yourself for even staring at him like that in such an inappropriate manner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Within the next hour, you had your project finished. Stretching noisily in your chair, you peeked down to see that Eren was still hunched over the novel, dark hair glinting in the light of the dying flame of the hearth. You stood from your chair to throw another log into the flames, and your guest lifted his attention from the book then to look at you. Turning on your foot, you placed your hands on your hips. “Know who stole the treasure yet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s really boring, I’m hardly that far into it,” he commented with an eye roll. “I’m thinking it’s the family maid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your mouth dropped to form a tiny ‘o’, somewhat shocked from his guess. How did he figure it out so soon? “I’m not commenting on that,” you stated in a difficult tone, turning on your heel to clean up your mess of yarn. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You heard a rumbling chuckle resonate from deep within his chest. A cocky smirk flitted over his features. “Don’t tell me I’m right??” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With arms full of yarn, you spun on your toes to give him a snarky look, mildly annoyed yet fascinated with how quickly he solved the mystery. Even </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>didn’t figure it out on the first try. “I guess you’ll just have to finish it then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess,” he answered haughtily, snapping the book shut with one hand before rising to his full height. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You had to crane your neck to keep eye contact with Eren, who stood little more than a forearm’s length apart from your mildly frenzied form. He turned to return the book on the shelf, allowing you some space to breathe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once more, his devastating green eyes connected with yours to merge until he could no longer hold the contact and focused on your lips instead. “I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As if Eren couldn’t shock you anymore that night with his newfound emotional capacity, now he was asking you for a favor? Your teeth come down to bite your bottom lip out of nervousness, curious as to what Eren had to ask of you. “Sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you mind cutting my hair for me? It’s getting a little too long for my taste,” he graveled his voice while releasing his dark chocolate tresses from the bun you were just growing accustomed to seeing him wear. His hair fell below his shoulder blades, bangs framing his face in a messy do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’ve never cut hair before other than my own,” you answered unsure, “how much do you want taken off?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Enough where it doesn’t find its way into my mouth when I sleep,” he complained, green eyes twinkling curiously as he watched you squirm under his gaze. You didn’t know what to say, you were a seamstress of all things. Did he think your finger dexterity would transfer? “You have steady hands, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I trust you more than anyone else</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You almost didn’t hear the first part of his final statement, and you swore your heart skipped a beat until your inner mechanisms had to pinch you for being so silly. What was wrong with you today? Why did you only hear that last part? And </span>
  <em>
    <span>why did it make you feel so ecstatic?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Truly, there was no purpose for you to act this way. You swallowed the lump in your throat and proceeded to nod your head in acceptance. “I just have one large mirror, it’s in my bedroom, so we’ll have to cut your hair in there.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren moved so fast, you hardly had time to collect the scissors from the kitchen before he had a chair set up in front of the full-length mirror of your room. He sat expectantly, allowing you to run your brush and fingers through his straight hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t mean to be annoying,” you started with two hands futilely trying to physically smooth the bumps from his hair tie, “Why don’t you go dump your head in the sink real quick and come back? Your hair isn’t going to work with me, otherwise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren stood wordlessly and did as you said, brushing past you and your bed, which took up most of the space in the room. In minutes, he returned with his hair wrapped in a kitchen towel, stripped down to bare his torso in all its glory. You immediately diverted your gaze in embarrassment, your ears turning a bright shade of pinkish-red.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry…” Eren said, albeit a little amused when he noticed your response before taking a seat once more in the dining chair. “I just figured it’d only get in the way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“N-No you’re right, it just surprised me was all!” Your voice was all but casual, speaking in squeaks, but you were thankful when Eren pretended not to notice. You released his hair from the towel and made quick work of his knots. “I’ll take off about two inches and go from there, does that work?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he said simply, green eyes peering solely on you through the mirror. You had to peek your head around him to make eye contact; for even when sitting, Eren’s height was only slightly shorter than your own standing height. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You made quick work with the scissors, starting from the back of his soft, straight locks and working your way around the sides. Your hands moved diligently and quickly, fingers running patterns over his scalp. From the corner of your eyes, you noticed Eren close his own in tranquility, stillness overcoming him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A look of complacency crossed your visage as you viewed your work. A halo of dark brown hair surrounded Eren by the end of it all; you did a pretty good job. Using your fingers, you brushed his hair back, noting the shorter length, but it was still just long enough for him to tie it away from his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My mother used to cut my hair for me,” Eren interrupted your silent gloating, otherwise unmoving from his place on the chair. His head tilted back and to the left to give you a moment to trace the sharp curve of his jawline and the almond-shaped crests of his emerald eyes, lips pressed in a thin, almost uncaring line. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You stood somewhat stunned from his comment and wondered if you should ask him to continue with whatever he wanted you to hear. You chose to remain quiet, opting to unconsciously continue kneading the drops of water from his thick hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked forward at the mirror to take in his new appearance, and his eyes are now in another world. “She was pretty bad at it. One time, she slipped and cut a big chunk of hair off the back of my head. It took about a year before it eventually grew out again. And I swore I’d never let her touch my head again, but she always insisted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You laughed at the thought of a young, hotheaded Eren and his mother getting into a yelling match over it. “Sounds like she just really wanted to redeem herself,” you commented kindly, pausing in your combing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She knew how to cut Mikasa’s hair just fine, but I think she found herself lost when it came to short hair. If I had a say, I probably would have told her to buzz it all off and get it over with, but she insisted on me keeping it long. She always loved my hair when it was long.” Eren’s green eyes casted themselves down into his lap, resigned once more. Not a single tear fell either. You pondered if he had used them all up a long time ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You blinked at his explanation, wondering if Eren kept his hair long now because he knew his mother would’ve wanted it that way. “I have to agree with her on that…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren lifted his gaze to stare you down in the mirror as though he were waiting for you to finish what you were going to say. Did you mean you agreed that it was difficult to cut short hair? Or did you prefer his hair long over his shorter cuts?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But you never finished. You settled on a few last strokes of your brush before stating he was free to leave and left to collect a dust pan for what was left on the floor. He brushed the remnants of hair off his shoulders before returning his shirt to his torso once more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hesitated in the doorway of your bedroom, watching as you knelt to sweep away at what came off his head. His visage remained stoic as he gazed over your petite, hunched form before he left to find privacy in his own bedroom.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>The floorboards creaked noisily under the pressure of his footfalls. A large bed with covers thrown messily in clumps at the end laid waiting for him for another night of kicking, tossing, and turning. He never bothered with the two straight-backed chairs, the washstand, or the bureau in your parents' old bedroom, always heading straight for the bed every time he entered. There were no drapery curtains to shield the rays of moonlight tonight, nor pictures on the wall, he noticed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All day the sun had been pouring down upon the roof, and the little room was like a wooden oven. The hearth in the living room kept the house heated, but he knew how much you hated being cold—he always left the fire-tending to your desires.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In minutes, he was settled in bed, but like clockwork, he laid awake for hours into the night. The usefulness of his thoughts evaporated sometime ago, yet his mind churned on in the darkness like a runaway horse. When he started doing math with thoughts of ravioli in his head, that was when he knew things were bad. Tonight, he was determined to fall asleep on time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But tonight was even worse than his math calculations and pasta-craving thoughts. He could hear your light footsteps padding lightly along the floors of the farmhouse, and for the first time in the week and a half he had been staying here, he thought neither about the past or his future. He stayed up thinking about you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His sleeplessness was his torture. While the rest of the world embraced their dreams and their eight hours of rest, he tossed and chased his sleep. Eren lied flat on his back, face as impassive as ever, his mind casually offering different topics for the night’s show, all of them based on you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had to physically turn himself to deny them, but then an image of your backside with hair tied high into a long-swaying ponytail made him grunt with irritation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew he had already spent far too much time in the valley with you. He should have been gone by now, living what were the rest of his days in isolation until the time came to return his titans to the military. His job was completed. No one existed beyond Paradis Island. Now all that was left for him was to accept the Curse of Ymir and embrace death.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew he was growing weaker by the day, bruises and cuts no longer healing as swiftly as they once did. How long did he have? A month? Maybe two? He figured he could live the rest of his days on his own in hiding. The Survey Corps was looking everywhere for him to take his titans, but he would be damned if he didn’t get to see what little the world had to offer now that he had accomplished peace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your face flashed in his vision for a fleeting moment, and he reminded himself that he couldn’t grow close to you anymore than he already was. You were smart, he knew that, but you never pried, which he truly appreciated. He knew you were aware of some of the crimes he had committed, but you chose to see him as an old friend instead. He knew he was right to come here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had planned to use your rebuilt home on the outskirts of Rose as a temporary residence, for you were a war buddy and a close friend of his who survived the tortures of war with the titans and military. Anger pooled quietly within him when he thought of your mutilated right foot, but he was quick to mitigate its effects. There was no point in getting frustrated about things he couldn’t change.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You once explained to him that you considered your missing foot to be a blessing. It was a reminder that you were lucky enough to at least be able to walk away with your life intact, even if it meant you would be limping. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your ideology fascinated him. Even the men in the psychological ward he spent weeks undercover with could not pull themselves together in the way you could. You had seen friends and loved ones die just as much as anyone else, yet you knew how to appreciate the world as it was. You lived as well as you could for those who had sacrificed themselves for humanity and your survival.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was allured by your bravery and strength, something he once felt during his early years in the 104th Training Squad. At the time, he had to squash those feelings of attraction as a childish crush, his hatred for those who wished to suppress his freedom far greater than any emotion he had ever felt before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One could ask him what made you special now? Surely, there were other women in the world who were braver and even stronger than you could ever possibly dream of being. Sometimes your voice went shrill when you were tired and annoyed, and you weren’t very good at hiding your emotions; particularly, the moments of admiration aimed at him. He’d usually catch you stumbling to pretend like you weren’t staring at him. A strong woman would never reveal her intentions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But maybe what made you strong was that you weren’t afraid to show exactly how you felt. You weren’t afraid to fight for what you thought to be right. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t sure if he had met anyone as big-hearted, selfless, and pleasant to be around like you. Even in the Scouts, you were highly attentive to your squad, always tender and warm to anyone who came seeking words of wisdom and comfort from the ever-so patient and amiable (y/n) (l/n). </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He remembered the day Wall Maria was recovered and the majority of the Scouts had been cleanly wiped from the face of the Earth—how he heard you attempted to save as many wounded troops by bravely grappling them one by one over the wall, only to lose a part of you in the process to a projectile. If it weren’t for the soldiers forcing you to retreat, they swore you would have continued attempting to save your friends. They must have retreated far enough to escape Bertholdt’s transformation that day; otherwise, you would have been long dead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But now, many years and many lives lost since that day, his homeland was safe, and here you were like a ghost of his past.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just a few days here was already more than he could handle, and he felt he had fallen into some form of trap laid intricately hidden by you, but you didn’t even know it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Enticingly, you would blink your eyes in wonder when he’d speak, allowing your eyelashes to flutter like the wings of a butterfly. Your eyes were simply spellbinding, he thought, set prettily with a sharp, rounded nose to match. Each one had this coruscate gleam that enhanced their beauty, wide and huge in rapturous shades of (e/c). Small ears were pierced by golden hoops, concealed by (h/c) waves enhanced by natural highlights from the sun. Your skin was marred in certain places with tiny imperfections brought by the countless battles you had fought, yet you still looked so fragile and soft in his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were seraph-like not only in beauty, but in your pure nature.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He furrowed his brows at the thought, forcing himself to remember he could only appreciate you from the distance. For every angel, there was a devil after all, and if anyone in this world deserved the title of devil, it would be him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And besides, angels and devils don't belong together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren groaned with frustration and flipped to shove his face further into the feathered pillows, wondering why he even bothered to stay this long. He had plans to leave for the ocean sometime soon, but he kept finding himself putting off his departure date with each day he spent with you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had come </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>close to telling you how much you reminded him of his mother today, watching you trim away at his hair. The way you smiled to yourself even doing the simplest of tasks, or how you hummed to yourself in peace. Although, your voice (much like his mother’s) wasn’t that great of a singing voice. You even made the same faces when you concentrated, your tongue poking out from the side and eyes narrowing in focus.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dammit. Tonight was going to be another sleepless night for sure now. Out of stubbornness, he refused to admit anything else and focused on the soonest day he could depart for the sea. There was at least one thing he knew for sure; he could finally sleep without waking up to choking on his hair anymore.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You regretted not bringing a mask when the smell—a puff of the sweet musty odor of last summer’s straw and dried manure—hit you first. With one loud grunt of wrath, you lugged the unwieldy, russet-painted door to the side and clapped your hands together to rid them of any hidden splinters. Your nose shriveled upward from the smell; it was rather rank.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The animals ambled forward to greet you for the day, your arms reaching to embrace each one with a small scratch on the head. You had nothing for them at the moment, but there was always this unconscious thought in your mind that if you pet only one cow or one goat, the others would feel less loved, so you had to pet them all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your diaphragm rose and fell exaggeratedly, the air from your lungs cool against your crossed arms. It was obvious you were stalling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took a few minutes to address each animal, extra time allotted for your goat since she didn’t want to come any closer from the back corner of her pin. Once finished with your rounds, you returned to the front of the barn to begin your search for an old wooden ladder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay, sure, so after a week, you never fixed the barn door... Your father would surely scold you for procrastinating so long on the task; however, so long as you kept the door covered when it wasn’t in use, then the chickens couldn’t escape. There was plenty of room and fencing for them in the back to run free, but for some reason, your little chickies just </span>
  <em>
    <span>loved </span>
  </em>
  <span>to run straight for the front.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As evidenced by this current moment, when all the little yellow puff balls came running straight for your legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no you don’t!” You cried, crouching to shoo them back to where they came from. The chickies clucked angrily in unison, but you were having none of it. “I know how you all get, there’s no reason to be so upset.” You huffed assertively with hands balled against your hips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now that the chickens were returned into confinement, you spun on your heel to face the task that had been taunting you for far too long:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That freaking barn door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once your eyes compensated for the dim pallor of light, you began to make out the shapes of dusty frames of wooden stalls and poles until you spotted your ladder. You were determined to get this finished today, even if it left you incapacitated by the end of it all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The chickens would probably enjoy dancing over my dead body,” you mumbled to yourself humorously, eyeing the placement of your work boots with each step. You glanced briefly over to the coop to find the chickens eyeing you, your imagination creating a scenario in which their eyes burned blood red and their claws grew three inches longer out of rage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You set up your ladder by the frame of the door just in time to catch a flash of a dark crimson shirt from the corner of your eye. From the front of your barn, you spot Eren sauntering toward you. In one hand, he sported a bucket of nails and a spare hammer; the other, stuffed in the pocket of his trousers in his usual nonchalant demeanor. You moved forward to meet him part of the way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An exquisite smile spread itself across your cheeks. “Thanks!” You accepted the tools from his outstretched hand, subconsciously noting its roughness, “did you find them in the shed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren nodded his head in confirmation, his handsome features turning upward to reveal the exotic slant of his bottle green eyes, narrowed and calculating. He critically evaluated the little makeshift workstation you had set up for yourself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His gaze settled on your sad excuse for a ladder, rusted and only three steps tall. “That’s not going to hold.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure it will be fine! I learned last time that if I make sure to stand on the right side of it—” You pinned your elbows to your sides in ninety degrees angles and waved your hands for emphasis. “—it doesn’t squeak and shake as much,” you replied casually.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You bend down to pick through the different lengths and sizes of nails. Dainty fingers plucked six different nails from the bin, each similar in size. “Thanks for bringing these! I’m sure this won’t take me long, so…” your voice trailed off, waiting for Eren to catch your clues and leave you be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t budge from his stance, both hands pocketed and shoulders set back coolly. His eyebrows were set a little higher than usual on his forehead in questioning as though he didn’t understand what you were trying to hint. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can do this on my own,” you summarized shortly, voice airy, yet firm. You didn’t want to trouble him anymore than you already had by asking him to bring the tools.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t let my presence bother you.” Eren continued to study your determined figure, boots planted a foot apart from one another in a confident stance. However, the twiddling of your fingers betrayed you—Eren had spent enough time with you to pick up on your nervous habits, as charming as they were. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He noted your (h/c) tresses were tied high, hidden by a bandana placed strategically to catch the sweat dripping from your forehead. Today, you wore a simple pair of cotton pants that ended at your calves and a plain black shirt tied with a purple sash. Your clothes looked too big for you, tightly gathered where the sash was tied, and the sleeves swallowed your arms whole.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Delicate eyebrows knit themselves uncharacteristically over your soft features. “Okay, if it makes you feel better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You walked along the patches of tall grass as well as you could, returning to find the chickens still complying within their coop. The plan was to get the hinges repositioned on the frame first, which you had measured out previously (a week ago, to be exact) and drawn circles for where you wanted them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You felt more confident today now that the wind wasn’t blowing as hard as it was before. You twisted the ladder into the ground to assure its sturdiness and clambered up the wooden steps, being sure to watch your footing. Halting just before the top of the ladder, you stretched upward as deftly as you could, falling short by a few inches. Much like the weekend before, you weighed your ability to balance yourself with the frame of the wood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And just as you began to shakily raise your uncoordinated, prosthetic foot to the tallest step, you felt a tug at the hem of your cotton pants:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come down before you hurt yourself,” Eren said, face as stoic as ever, but worry clearly gleamed in his intense green eyes. “You’re going to fall.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Could you maybe just hold the ladder?” you tried stubbornly, but he gave no indication of approval, his scowl deepening ever-so slightly. He observed as you entertained your options in your mind, but it didn’t take long for you to recognize your own foolishness and succumb to his wishes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You didn’t say anything afterward—didn’t know what to say, really. You felt a little dumb for even trying to prove him wrong; it was the treachery of your pride. You became peculiarly conscious of Eren’s hand placement on your back, but accepted the gesture with grace. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was static, that crackling in the air whenever you were within a foot of each other. It was enough to make the little baby hairs on the back of your neck stand up, but Eren was sure to keep a respectful distance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You specifically remembered the first time the static began, for it was a new feeling and astonished you endlessly whenever it happened. It started a few days ago. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You had tripped and fallen over a stray ball of yarn. The perception of time distorted itself; everything slowed down until there was nothing, only you and the ceiling above. Your surroundings rushed by in a blur, and you knew the pain was coming. It went by fast, yet slow, almost suspended.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then impact. You bashed the back of your left arm against the stone hearth in your living room. It had been a while since you felt pain like that, and wow did it hurt. It throbbed and ached in the worst way possible, and you couldn’t help the tears crowding your vision. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren came running in from the back porch when he felt that whole side of the house shake from the collision, only to find you hunched over with legs sprawled out in front of you, tears welling in your eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His actions were swift, but his hands were gentle when he inspected your tricep and helped you perform a few range of motion exercises. He declared the injury to be nothing but a deep bruise before treating the sight with a bandage and some ice to help with the swelling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After minutes of quiet sniffling on your part, he chastised you for being so careless and not taking better care of your body, growing even more exasperated when he further noticed numerous bruises and scratches along your arms from trimming the shrubbery earlier that day. The rest of the time was then spent on applying ointment to your wounds and ended in a discussion about his father, the one who taught him his knowledge on basic medical skills.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It almost made you a little afraid, how close you and Eren were becoming. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was officially two and a half weeks today since Eren first showed up on your doorstep, far longer than you had ever expected him to stay. There were no complaints on your end. Eren had been a great help and always found a way to keep himself busy, carrying out chores you had been putting off for over the last year. He never once complained about the work, and on no occasion did you ask him to stop. Clearly, it was something to keep his mind busy, a task to distract him from his thoughts, so you would just smother your pride and let him do as he pleased. Surely, he wasn’t hurting anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Each day was spent separately tending to personal endeavors before the two of you found your way to one another in some way by evening time. Eren grew more open in his thoughts, the layers thinning in the emotional wall he had spent building up for most of his life. Remnants of his true personality—the irritable, hotheaded, determined person of his youthful teenage years—shone through brilliantly as he adjusted to life beyond the Survey Corps, each quirk more lovable than the last. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren remained guarded in some matters, especially those surrounding the years after Wall Maria was recovered. Sometimes, if you caught him in a good mood, he would reminisce with you about eight years ago, back during your days as a Scout, but nothing beyond that. It was like he had shut that part of him into the depths of his being, his facial features growing dark at the thought of his history in Marley. His mental capacity was incapable and unwilling to reflect upon anything associated with the horrors of war.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as you stepped off the ladder, a sickening crack resounded and tore you away from your thoughts. The wood snapped under your weight, echoing off the walls of the barn in a way that reminded you of a death rattle. You shared a look of amazement with Eren when the ladder flopped to its side as though it had given its last breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, that was a close one,” you murmured. Eren heard you clearly despite your voice being so soft, earning you a raised eyebrow and a slight smirk to show how unimpressed he was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nearly said ‘I told you so,’ but for the sake of peace and the silent threat of a cold dinner, he held himself back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You chose to ignore him with an eye roll and twirled the nails in the palms of your hands, unsure of what to do next. Eren on the other hand was already kneeling before the dismantled barn door, clearly ready to initiate some sort of plan. He rolled up the sleeves of his red shirt to his elbows, forearms tanned and firm. He waved you closer, green eyes bright with resolve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look like you want to say something,” you said, handing him the metal hinge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren drew a nail from your small palm. “First off, the best way to fasten a door would be to attach the hinges to the door first; otherwise, it’s like trying to balance on a beam with something heavy in your arms,” his voice rumbled smoothly like thunder, as though he had this speech prepared the second he approached you and saw your nightmare of a workstation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You could’ve told me that before I started!” You said with a mild groan, curious as to what lesson he would teach you. Your father normally managed the repairs, so this was an education.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t want to stop you when I saw the way you were wielding that hammer,” Eren’s eyes briefly lifted to make contact with your own. There was a bit of mischievous teasing, dull in nature, but still present like he couldn’t allow himself to fully share the emotion. “Who knows what would’ve happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t tell me...are you scared of me?” Your voice careened alluringly with laughter, and Eren halted his hammering momentarily. You laughed like you had no care in the world, joyous and pure, and he wondered then if you could ever do any wrong in this messed up world. He was momentarily star-struck by you and even more so by his ability to make you laugh like that. “Who would’ve thought that even I could scare the fearless, Eren Yeager.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not scared of you,” he clarified, “just scared of what you would do if I tried to stop you.” His motions remained still for a brief second before he continued with his nailing, and his face twisted into disbelief. “And trust me, there’s plenty of things I find terrifying.” His hands worked diligently with the wood while you watched, and you wondered absentmindedly what Eren feared the most.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Surely, he was all powerful beyond the wildest dreams of any man seeking brawn, the holder of three of the nine titan powers and the savior of Paradis. On paper, he was nearly invincible, but these facts never made a dent upon your judgement of his character—it wasn’t his accomplishments, but rather, his terrifyingly consistent perseverance in even the most grueling of situations. That was what made him fearless in your mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You remembered a time eight years ago when he had lost a bit of his spunk when he learned the truth of how his father obtained the Founding Titan and passed it on to him. He grew remorseful and conscience-stricken, but after a few months of self-reflection, he was able to bounce back confidently in time for your journey to Shiganshina. You deeply admired his strength in that way, his ability to reason with himself and understand that he didn’t need to be the strongest or the smartest person alive to be special—simply being born at all was enough. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You wondered what Eren feared to make him react in that way to your sarcasm. The tortures of his mind were certainly responsible for his answer, but you knew to never press him further unless he brought it up himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now secondly,” Eren continued once the hinges were reattached, “I would have pitched that godforsaken ladder and asked me for help.” With boots planted firmly in the mud, Eren hoisted the barn door up and over his shoulder like it was nothing. His khaki pants were covered in dirt and rustled with each step, the hinges dangling noisily in search for something to latch on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I admit that your method is not as complicated as my own, but I have to disagree with part of your second point.” Your bottom lip subconsciously pushed forward in a look of petulance, eyes downcast. “I think you underestimate my own capabilities.” You followed Eren the short distance to the framework, chest feeling tight and hands folded neatly in front of you. You were used to being coddled by now, but for some unknown reason, this one actually bothered you the most.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Strands of lengthy brown hair fell forward out of his bun as Eren shook his head vigorously to deny your statement. He didn’t look at you once when speaking, unaware of your silent brooding:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are extremely capable.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His gaze burned brilliantly with the utmost sincerity, focused intently on the russet-colored barn. He shifted his body just before the hardwood and rested the door against the other side, muscles quivering with each action. He let out a deep sigh when the load was taken off his shoulder. “I think this sort of task warrants more than one person though. I wouldn’t do it by myself either if it were me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You wondered if he was just saying that to make you feel better, but Eren wasn’t the type to beat around the bush or lie to spare someone’s feelings. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A tiny smile graced your lips at his indirect compliment, so simple yet it meant a lot to you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You didn’t enjoy admitting this to anyone, let alone yourself really, but feeling useless was an ongoing internal struggle for you. Don’t get it wrong, you were extremely grateful to walk away from the Scouts with your life still intact! If your foot was the price to pay to save the lives of your comrades, you would have done it all over again if given a second chance to repeat that day at Shiganshina. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>However, there were certainly days you felt completely useless and needy, especially the days you had to ask your neighbors to help you with your chores. You were well aware that if it weren’t for their high regard of your father’s memory, they would have never bent themselves nearly backward for you for free. Baling hay and scything weeds were once common chores you had no problems completing; now, they were daunting tasks that tormented your self-esteem endlessly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was those days when you struggled to climb stairs correctly, those days you felt ridiculed by your neighbors for asking to pay them, you truly battled your inner demons. You weren’t a stubborn being in nature, but when it came to feeling impractical and worthless, you found it hard to ask for help, even when you knew you couldn’t do it on your own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it was also days like these, when Eren’s eyes—those fiery, bluish-green orbs—gleamed so truthfully with promise, you knew your feelings of worthlessness held no place in your life. There was no shame in accepting help, and just because you could not do what you used to before in some areas, it did not mean you could not excel in others. This was just another reason you were grateful for your life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see what you mean,” you murmured pensively.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren wondered what had you so lost in thought today, your gaze hardly reaching his, and you were a little slow to respond. Typically, you were leading the conversations with joyful banter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your emotions were not easily hidden on your innocent face. Your contemplation was evident at the moment in the crease of your lovely brow and the slight down-curve of your full lips. But your eyes, your eyes showed your soul. They were a deep pool of restless (e/c), an ocean of compassion and child-like wonder. It was obvious his words had struck a note with you, and in those eyes he read clearly that you weren’t the type to let the world break you. Sure you could cry, but you would never let anyone take your true self from you. You clung to it with passion. Passion that made you beautiful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren had slowly grown to appreciate you. You were easy to talk to and fun to be around. There wasn’t much else he could ask for, really.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was beauty in being a good listener, you who sought to make connections and see things from new perspectives. Everything about you made him feel safe, a feeling he wanted to swallow whole in its entirety, new and comfortable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren blinked once. Then twice. The neutral expression he donned fell. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Dumbass,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought, irritated with his low self-control.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two of you stood idly in front of the barn, an unspoken agreement shared to continue avoiding the inevitable. Without a platform of some sort, there would be no way of reconnecting the hinges to the door frame. You were stumped on what to do next.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You seem to know a lot about this sort of matter,” you commented thoughtfully, drawing him from his thoughts as you waved a delicate hand at the building for emphasis, “you know, with construction and repairs.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren regarded you carefully, his hands stuffing themselves into his pockets before his gaze shifted to size up the extensive height of the barn. He held his breath for a moment and wiped a bead of sweat from his cheek with his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His next words were brief and spoken in caution, “Probably about five years ago, I spent a lot of time building train tracks with the 104th Survey Corps.” His emerald eyes twinkled in the light of the sun, radiating an emotion you couldn’t quite read. The only railroad you had ever seen was on the tops of the walls for transporting lifts for the horses and ammunition. It was safe to assume Eren was referring to the new transportation developments of this day and age.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your breath hitched in your throat as you thought of a response—it was obvious he was uncomfortable with the topic. You were unsure of what to say out of fear he would grow resentful and shield himself from you once more, but something deep inside reminded you he spoke well aware of the implications behind his words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You knew he was trying to be nice, trying to offer a conversation that could potentially exploit knowledge of which he had no desire to share or reminisce upon. But mostly, it was a sign of trust. He knew you wouldn’t push him past his comfort zone with trying questions of that time of his life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That must have been really tough work,” you hummed softly. Eren watched as you crossed your arms and lifted a curled finger to rest below the plumpness of your bottom lip in thought. Unaware, his eyes did not stray once. “I could only imagine what it must be like to ride on the railroads. Probably really windy, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren was quick to navigate his gaze elsewhere when you turned to face him. Before he knew it, he was already giving you an answer before his flustered mind could think properly: “I’ll take you to it one day so you can see for yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your eyes visibly widened at that statement, and for a moment, you felt palpitations in your chest from his words. He answered so casually and nonchalantly, you nearly didn’t recognize the true meaning behind those words. Did he sincerely feel so comfortable with you that he was willing to show you what the new railroad system was like?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“D-do you really mean that?” You questioned, watching as Eren’s head swiveled away from you before he gave up a curt nod. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You imagined hearing a </span>
  <em>
    <span>floosh </span>
  </em>
  <span>sound when the blood immediately rushed to pinken your face. Your thoughts stumbled over one another in a race, mouth peeling open ever-so slightly in surprise. Your (e/c) eyes twinkled with elation for his offer, nearly spinning you off your axis, but you were quick to calm your frazzled nerves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once more, you did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> want to coerce Eren into anything. Freaking out over such a simple offer he’d probably forget in a few days was unnecessary and would place pressure on him to follow through. Although, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>greatly enjoy the idea of spending a day riding in one of those new, passenger-safe “train wagons” you had heard about when shopping in town. (Those privileges were only available to the rich nobles of Sina, but that didn’t stop the townspeople from gushing over its convenience.) </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You settled and reigned in all your eagerness, answering with a noncommittal hum of agreement instead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But you could still feel there was something different within you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right now, there was a spark of hope, a ray of sunshine yet to be born, but it was there and you could feel it. Perhaps it was optimism, the anticipation of good things to come. It was a feeling you hadn’t felt so substantially in so long that it felt as foreign as it was welcome.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A tiny gale of wind pushed against your back as if to confirm the feeling, your loose strands of hair flying softly into your vision. You paced up to the barn door then and determined the next best course of action now was to focus on the present. There was a desperate need to come up with a plan for this wretched task—you’d spent far too many sleepless nights dreaming of this door, or even your chickens disappearing to go start a cult of their own down the road.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You focused intently on the door, a few ideas coming to mind, but none really appropriate for the situation. “So I was thinking, and stop me if I’m asking too much: Is there maybe some way you could use your titan shifting abilities to get the nails in? Maybe transform partially and use your War Hammer Titan or something to make a platform of sorts—Eren?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You cut yourself off when you turned to find that Eren had ominously fallen to his knees, both his arms curled and covering the lower half of his face. Everything moved so fast, neither of you had time to react before he found himself slumped over with hands doused in blood. Thick, red liquid gushed from his nose in abnormally sizable amounts, his eyes initially wide, but his visage was strangely inexpressive. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every muscle felt tight, sprung for action, and you couldn’t walk straight as concern flushed your system. Blood poured out of his nose like a red fountain to spurt between his fingers, oozing under his hand and onto the dry grass. You knelt to rest your bottom against your heels and fell forward onto your knees, perched closely by his side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me see,” you murmured in a no-nonsense tone, trying your best to remain level-headed when he lowered his right hand to reveal the small curve of his rounded nose. There was no noticeable injury, but blood flowed in concentrated clumps and dripped like a broken faucet, so abrupt and completely out-of-nowhere. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tilt your head forward, and breathe through your mouth,” you said when Eren began coughing. Your fingers hovered gently over his face and shoulders, unconsciously leaning in close with no regard for personal boundaries. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren’s green eyes narrowed at this when he felt the softness of your hair brush against his cheek. The distinctly sweet aroma of your natural scent invaded his nostrils under the smell of iron. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He lifted his hands to grab hold of your wrists and pushed them back to your chest a little more harsh than he intended. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be fine,” he grunted. Just as the words left his lips, more blood gushed from his nose, forcing him to release his hold on you and pinch his nostrils.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I beg to differ,” you scoffed, your calm demeanor morphing into concern. A carousel of ideas flooded your mind, each one more worrying than the last. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You kept your hands to yourself, but did not budge from your place at his side. That static once again returned, rushing in full force, but that was the least of your worries at the moment. You watched as he struggled to control the flow; it had spread to his red shirt, the bright crimson quickly darkening to take on a brownish hue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You knew he was hiding something from you. The way he reacted—face stoic and impassive like this was something he had anticipated—was far too strange to ignore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You pushed your suspicion away to focus on the task at hand and dug around in your pocket to find the handkerchief you kept handy. It had yet to be used, and you sighed thankfully. Certainly, Eren wouldn’t appreciate holding a rag of sweat against his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You rose up on your knees to match Eren’s height, frustrated when he wouldn’t dare to look at you. “Here,” you said, the cloth placed in front of his vision in hopes to coax him. His eyes diverted from their spot on the distant horizon to look at your hand. He noted how the blood, </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>blood, concentrated itself in the fold of your knuckles, making the creases dark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren hesitated. “Thanks,” he said indistinctly, eventually accepting the gesture. He pinched his nose with the handkerchief and went completely, utterly silent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do I need to take you to the doctor?” you tried, but Eren immediately shook his head in denial. “Okay…well let me go get you some water.” You began to rise a little from your place next to him, but his next action both bewildered and surprised you:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren’s unoccupied hand shot out to grip your wrist tightly, halting you from moving any further. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your heart nearly sank at the look of pleading in his eyes. “Please stay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You nodded your head wordlessly and relaxed back into a sitting position, peering upward into his face with deep concern. His jaw was clenched tightly, almost as tight as the hold he kept on your wrist. His powerful emerald eyes were now dull and glazed over, his mind someplace else other than his body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You hadn’t seen Eren this vulnerable in quite some time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In this discomfort, you could feel your worry increase and the logic of your actions decrease as if they were locked into some inverse relationship. Your hand was blanching over now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eren.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of your voice jarred him from whatever psychosis he was in, his hand releasing the death grip it had on your poor arm. He apologized for not noticing and lowered the handkerchief from his face to reveal that the bleeding had stopped. His palms were scarlet and sticky, but when he looked into your eyes, whatever anxiety he felt slowly began to alleviate itself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your eyes showed the kind of gentle concern his mother used to have when he would come home beaten and dirtied. Your hand laid lightly on his shoulder, and instead of flinching like he usually would, he was soothed by it. You left your hand there and spoke with such a soft voice, he felt the words calming him more by the way they were said rather than the actual meaning. It was like being wrapped in a blanket of your caring nature. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“—There’s something you’re not telling me,” you finished, voice ladened with worry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He never truly registered what you were saying to him. How could he not be distracted right now? You were so close that every single one of his senses became entangled in your being.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You noticed a sudden change in the unresponsive brunette and idly noted the dried streak of blood staining his upper lip. It was muted in color when compared to his dazzling green eyes, enraptured with specks of blue when looked upon closely. He appeared to also be studying the features of your face, radiant and beautiful. His gaze focused on the curve of your lips idly, and he did not move from there, his breath hitching in his throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You didn’t know what was transpiring. Everything was happening so fast, you hardly had a second to recognize the fact your knees were pressed flush against his left thigh. For a fleeting instant, you thought you could see his eyes flicker with want, long and thick eyelashes lowering in a half-lidded gaze. You couldn’t help but to change focus to his lips out of habit. Your instincts naturally inched you forward, but inexperience and utter fear of making a fool yourself made your spine rigid and your fists squeeze tightly in your lap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You couldn’t see it, but you could feel Eren’s hand rising slowly to cup the soft curve of your chin—</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Stop.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>You had never seen someone so conflicted when Eren, inches from your face and clearly ready to take your lips in his own, jerked himself backward. Pure confusion flitted over your features, your eyelashes still lowered as if you were stuck within a dream state. You fell backward on your heels, and Eren pulled back to jump up and straighten himself to his full height, eyes wide.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like waking up from a trance, he realized </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly </span>
  </em>
  <span>what he was doing. He knew he was treading dangerous grounds letting you tend to him like that, but he never thought </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>would be the one to make such a bold move. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watched as feelings of despair from the notion of rejection flitted over your features. It was the first time Eren had seen a real frown on your face, but he was far too enraged to really care in the moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And damn. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>pissed.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He wanted nothing more than to beat the uselessness out of himself for letting his attraction to you get the better of him. No. This. Was. Not. Happening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned on his heel then, anything to get away from you, his source of conflict. He had been too lenient before, but now this was growing out of his control. There were no other options. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eren! Y-you can’t just walk away. Your nosebleed—” you cried out, struggling to lift yourself to your feet. You were forced to watch his back, hands once again dug deep into the pockets of his pants and head lowered parallel to the ground. His strides were long and swift and difficult to keep up with, but you pursued him anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t follow me,” he grunted out, voice menacing and hostile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry,” you called out, unsure if he heard you, “at least, tell me where you’re going??” Some insane part of you was terrified he was about to up and leave without a proper goodbye. Was it seriously ending like this? Was this all your fault?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going for a walk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, things were going great between the two of you. There was something he was hiding from you, but you weren’t exactly sure what. There was only one way to find out, and that was to ask the source, himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, just tell me what’s going on??” You huffed, startled when Eren suddenly went still. His head turned to show a terrible scowl and a single, emerald green eye narrowed in contempt. You had yet to see such hatred from him, but something deep inside told you it was not meant to be directed toward you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is none of your business, (y/n),” he said, and with that, he stalked off into the tall grass to merge onto the dirt path that led to the main road. Whatever door he had opened within himself for you was now slammed firmly shut. You did not follow him. Surely, he would come back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right?</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Bruh, Eren being almost as annoying as those damn chickens. Come on dude, just give in.</p><p>I had to end it there, I had so much more written but I realized it wouldn't be fun to let y'all know everything, so you're welcome and I'm sorry! Hahaha</p><p>I had such positive responses from everyone, and I cannot tell you enough how ecstatic I am to hear such lovely comments! I am usually very critical of how I write, so thank you to all of you who have commented, left me some kudos, and bookmarked me! I usually thrive on comments, and the reason why is because they usually help bring me back down to earth when I'm frustrated because nothing is perfect. Sometimes I get so caught up in it, I nearly end up quitting. But then I read what you all have to say (and trust me, I read them multiple times a week), and I gain my confidence back, so thank you thank you thank you!!!</p><p>I'm a pretty busy girl, but I plan on updating once a week or even sooner if I can. I'm very passionate about this story, so please bare with my annoying-ness hahahaha! I'd be surprised if anyone even read this far into my rambling, so you're a cool cat if you actually did. I'll see you all next chapter!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The evening air felt warm against his skin as Jean stepped outside, fists clenched and ready to unleash their fury on the first soft surface he could find. He observed the manor walls, the strongest thing for miles around, noting the varying sizes and shapes of the stones, each one unique. Not a single bench, flowerpot, or table laid awaiting his fist, and he sure as hell wasn’t stupid enough to punch a stonewall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck,” he muttered to himself, unsure of what to do with his unchecked fury. His hands settled on clutching the chest of his military-grade jacket, suffocating him the harder he squeezed. Jean did NOT want to be here—some piss-old manor located in the middle of nowhere—negotiating with the Scouts about things he hardly gave a damn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s been </span>
  <em>
    <span>four years</span>
  </em>
  <span> now. Four years of searching, unnecessary combat, and pointless meetings, and Jean simply could not take it anymore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could have been in Sina by now, drinking at the bars, perhaps even meeting a beautiful woman—one who would be taken aback by his valor and good looks. He was most excited to spend the remainder of his days working as a civil officer, but here he was, wasting away his life with the Survey Corps in an attempt to find that damn genocidal bastard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean choked on the air, releasing his jacket to take some much needed deep breaths. These mini-tantrums of his were proving to be quite the nuisance. If he wasn’t careful, he’d probably die from bursting a blood vessel in his brain before anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He observed the green rolling hills in an attempt to spot any form of civilization near Karaness. It was a strange place to have these meetings, but Hanji insisted the large chateau was perfectly discreet to carry out conversation without fear of the Yeagerists overhearing them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In two minutes, he grew antsier and his anger flared once more when he couldn’t see any signs of life beyond the horses’ stables. All he wanted was to live the remainder of his days beyond the Scouts; he had fulfilled his role in that position a long time ago. Two large hands lifted to cup the sides of his head and smooth his lengthy chestnut hair away from his face, the strands so tight from his grip he was surprised they didn’t fall off his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean immediately groaned at the sound of a soft tenor voice. His hands lowered to settle widespread on the stony barrier before him, shoulders hunched and his hips folded backward to cross one foot over the other. A single tawny eye opened and narrowed at his unwanted companion from over his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t you people leave me alone for just five minutes?” He snarled, lips pulled back to bear his teeth. Jean took one long look at Armin’s face, however, before straightening up. “Armin,” he greeted suspiciously, mouth settled into a grim line amid his stubble</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blood had all but drained itself from Armin’s face, ocean blue eyes wide and vacant. Robotically, his hand rose upward to reveal a folded piece of paper, his gaze as still as a portrait. There was this deep, intense feeling. It dug deep into Jean’s stomach, clutching tightly as though his very life depended on it. He knew this feeling; it greeted him like an old friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take it,” Armin said, his normally expressive features showing not an ounce of emotion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean lashed forward to accept the parchment as though it would disappear if he weren’t fast enough, curiosity flitting over his features. Expectation loomed darkly over them both on that autumn evening, something Jean had unsettlingly grown accustomed. “Is this..?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Armin wordlessly nodded his head, gesturing for Jean to open the letter and see for himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tall brunette scratched at his chin and observed the stained-yellow note, hastily folded in a small square. He could feel his chest ache and his breathing slow down in a short attempt to calm himself. This was what they had been waiting for these last few weeks: Word from their informant in Krolva. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean peeled the corners of the parchment backward to read over the update, his light brown eyes briskly scanning the god-awful handwriting of their informant many times over and over. He only paused once to brush the lengthiness of his hair from his face, his gaze lifting upward once to meet Armin:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They...so they found Yeager in Blackstone Valley near Krolva, huh?” He summarized.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s only part of it. Keep reading.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean was beyond disbelief at this point. The last trail they had on Yeager was about a year ago when one of their men in Shiganshina swore he saw him wandering the newly built district. It turned out it was nothing but a young man who looked like the idiot, a farmer with the same eyes and hair color. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was also around that time last year Jean stopped caring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could care less what Eren Yeager decided to do with what was left of his sad life. Whatever connection Eren had with the Scouting Regiment was severed a long time ago when he denied the request to end the Rumbling...actually it was long before that; it was the minute he set off on his own to Marley to fill his own agenda. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean wouldn’t say it aloud, but sometimes he believed Eren was right to go off on his own. Who were they to try and stop him from saving his—no, </span>
  <em>
    <span>their </span>
  </em>
  <span>homeland? Even if it meant having to destroy the entire world filled with people who despised them for all the wrong reasons. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were days Jean wondered what would have happened if Eren hadn’t released the colossal titans from the walls. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He liked to imagine he and the rest of the devils of Paradis would probably be covered in gunpowder and ash by now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At this point, it was no longer possible to end the Rumbling—the entirety of the Earth was flattened by Yeager’s will to protect his friends by now. The remainder of humanity resided on Paradis, and expeditions beyond the sea were not deemed safe by the government as of yet. The only reason the military officials cared about collecting Eren now was to place him on trial for disobeying the law and sentence him to death as a message to his fellow Yeagerists. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean thought it was the worst joke anyone had ever told him… Did the military officials truly believe their display of “justice” would deter others from taking on their own personal agendas? By now, the bastard was probably lying in his deathbed, so what purpose did any of this chasing these last four years serve? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only rational solution was that the military was hiding something from them; the Survey Corps was like the red-headed step-child of the government, afterall. Hanji assured Jean and the others she had no reason to believe they were being lied to, but that would not stop them from making assumptions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trust was something hard to come by these days. For the Scouts, it was more about collecting the Founding, War Hammer, and Attack Titans from Yeager before he could die and allow them to be reborn outside of their control. Eren had promised all those years ago to return the titans when the Curse of Ymir would take his life, but when the military expressed concern to Historia of Eren’s faithfulness, she agreed it would be best to apprehend him before the psychological damage could sustain any longer for her citizens—there was no need to live in fear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The last thing they needed was for Yeager to go rogue and allow three random subjects of Ymir to earn the power and wreak havoc upon what little of humanity was left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean continued to scan the letter, his face morphing into a look of pure astonishment. There were times he had to reread some of the lines, unsure if he truly was interpreting them correctly. He allowed his arms to dangle lifelessly once finished, his long legs folding ungainly like a marionette. If it weren’t for the cobblestone he leaned against, he surely would have fallen in a heap on the ground. His mouth hung open in shock, and he almost looked like he was deeply pained by what he just read.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Armin cleared his throat to gather Jean’s attention, to remind him he wasn’t alone. “I heard they’re sending out the MPs to get him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like hell they are,” Jean growled angrily, “to think he’d drag </span>
  <em>
    <span>her </span>
  </em>
  <span>into this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Armin shook his head and rested a comforting hand on Jean’s shoulder, but it did little to soothe the taller man. “We won’t know the story until we get there. Hanji doesn’t trust the new General to keep this peaceful, so we head out tomorrow morning for Blackstone.” Armin waited for a reaction before he sighed deeply, “It’ll be a three day trip if we want to stay discreet.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean cursed under his breath, pulling away from Armin to stare once more out into the horizon. The sun burned tiredly in his eyes, oranges and pinks and blues dancing mutedly in the sky. There was a pregnant pause before he asked, “you think she’s a Yeagerist?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To be honest...I don’t know,” Armin said, a frown pressed firmly along his mouth. “Based upon the cold hard facts, she’s been hiding him for almost a month now, so the evidence favors her as an enemy of the State. Whether she’s doing it as a Yeagerist or of her own accord, I can’t say, but the General will probably have her prosecuted if we don’t intervene.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean rubbed his eyes vigorously from Armin’s analysis, wishing he had just imagined everything he read. “They’ll put her to death, you know,” he stated darkly, hesitating for a few moments, “Are they really sure it’s him this time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Armin dug around in the pocket of his thick, forest-green jacket, pulling out a dirty photograph for Jean to see. It was taken by one of the new, mass-produced cameras, modeled after the one Yelena had introduced all those years ago from Marley. “This came with the letter.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean observed the tinted photograph, navigating the brown curls and streaks of color to find partly-naked trees and the side view of a farmhouse aged in all its glory. He determined the image to be a focus of Yeager standing on the porch of the home, his side profile obviously belonging to the bastard they’d been looking for the last few years.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But what really drew Jean’s attention was what Yeager was staring at so intently: a young female whose body was partly cut out of the photo. Her face no longer held the immature, chubby roundness of a fifteen-year-old, the last age Jean had seen her before she was forced to retire from the Survey Corps. Eight years served her well from what he could tell, the neutral expression of her attractive features offering more to be desired from the photo. Her nose curved cutely at the tip just above a set of plump lips, and even in the stillness of the photograph, her wide eyes gleamed brilliantly, and her glossy hair radiated healthiness and beauty. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean grunted angrily at seeing the two of them together, simply frustrated that Yeager would bring an old friend, especially one as good-natured as (y/n) (l/n) into all of this. As if she hadn’t been through enough as it was... What in the world could have made him think it was a good idea to stay with </span>
  <em>
    <span>her </span>
  </em>
  <span>of all people? He knew the military was looking for him. If he truly cared for his friends, he never would have stepped foot in her home knowing the destruction that always followed his path.</span>
</p><p><em><span>“Why? That bastard…” </span></em><span>Jean mumbled to himself. </span><em><span>“Dragging</span></em> <em><span>everyone and their mother…” </span></em><span>He pounded his fist into the concrete harshly, the photograph slightly crumpling in his grip. </span><em><span>“She probably has no idea…”</span></em><span>  Suddenly, the tall brunette straightened his hunched over form to stare down at Armin, eyes gleaming in hope that his friend might have some answer for him:</span></p><p>
  <span>“Why did he go to her? Of all the people, I thought he wanted to be alone for the rest of his life. I know we have orders, but he knows we wouldn’t turn him over easily to the MPs… He didn’t come to any of us...so why..?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Armin appeared to have the same thought process, prepared for his answer long before Jean even brought up the question. Armin lowered his head of downy blond hair, his eyes set in a state of perpetual sadness:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve thought about that a lot. I always wondered why Eren never came back to us, but in reality, the answer was right in my face all along. I just chose not to see it,” Armin sighed, the weight of a thousand regrets resting on his shoulder. His fingernails dug harshly into the tender flesh of his palms. “Ever since that day we made it to the ocean for the first time, Eren was slowly becoming a monster. Not the kind of monster that you’d read about in a fairy tale, but one that was needed in order to cope with the person he had to become in order to change the world.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Armin spoke his words as though it were a speech he had prepared for just the occasion. Most of his sleepless nights were spent wondering where he went wrong with Eren in their friendship, but soon he realized that he and Eren were just far too different. They were never meant to get along.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren had matured in a dastardly way, Armin summarized. Back in training, he was fighting for freedom from the one-dimensional enemies that were the titans; however, those enemies soon expanded to include the true monsters of government, titan shifters, geopolitical enemies, and eventually, the entire world, itself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As time went on, it was necessary for Eren to become who he was today as fighting these enemies and battling the oppression of genocide became monstrous in itself. Armin could not blame Eren, who was simply fighting for his freedom. Armin could not blame the world either for fearing the Eldians for their potential to turn into titans. He also didn’t feel Eren was wrong to fight against what would be the death of him and his friends. This battle overtime had become so grotesque that in order for everyone to survive, he had to develop his capability of malevolence and destruction necessary to fight for freedom—.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No matter the cost. Even if that meant killing humans and friends.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The once naive and righteous victim Armin knew all those years ago had developed into a dangerous, vicious perpetrator. He had seen it through the years he’d known him. As a teenager, Eren’s powerlessness he felt when his home was taken from him was used as motivation to fight for freedom until the day he could finally fight the titans. With the progression of trials that faced him, it wouldn’t be until their return to Shiganshina when Eren would truly change his perspective on life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Armin still believed it was wrong of Eren to persecute the world so callously. He wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to see eye-to-eye with his former best friend on that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But now that Eren’s life was quickly coming to an end, Armin wished to at least speak with him one last time so he could say goodbye to the boy who was once so influential on his life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He did not hate Eren. It was actually Armin, himself, who once told Jean all those years ago on their first expedition as Scouts that one could not change anything in the world unless he were willing to discard a part of himself, too. In order to surpass monsters, one must be willing to abandon his humanity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All it took was one look into the dead eyes of Eren in that photograph they received from Krolva to remind Armin of what he said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren was suffering. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>To have to make the decision to sacrifice his humanity in order to become the monster necessary to achieve freedom from oppression...he had to make it all alone without the help of anyone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that was why Eren did not return. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Armin knew what it was like to be tormented by the attacks he committed, the influence of his titan powers, the memories of his predecessors, and the burdens he had to carry, much like Eren. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Eren could see into his future, spiraling into a deep depression as he weighed his options for success. Alone and suffering, he had to make a decision, and when he needed his friends most, they did not agree with his methods. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was one person in this world who knew Eren from the days before Marley, and that was (y/n). It was only natural he would seek comfort in the one friend who had no biases against anyone. Especially after all those years of suffering from loneliness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I’m going to take an early night. You should, too.” Jean muttered and handed Armin the crumpled photo. “Sorry about that.” He didn’t want to be around anyone at that moment, so he left Armin to stand alone in the increasingly chilly air of the evening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another cloudy night rolled in to cover the last of the twilight, as if the blackness failed to come fast enough. The rolling gray rapidly became as invisible as the stars it concealed, but the air still felt humid. The low sky imparted a claustrophobic tension, and the only thing left for Armin to do was seek shelter and attempt to sleep it out, hoping to wake to the sound of rain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If they were to protect (y/n) and Eren from the dangers the MPs posed, they would need to leave before the sun could return. Armin allowed his eyes to cast themselves downward in defeat. That photo was taken during the middle of the previous week. He had a terrible feeling they wouldn’t make it in time to warn her of what was to come.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the past, there wasn’t much Armin could do to save anyone. He wasn’t born for great things, nor could he find his place in the sun when he constantly lived in the shadows as Commander Erwin Smith’s sub-par replacement. He could try everyday, work for what he wanted and needed, but there were no paths to success, not for him. People talked as if he could dream his way out of anything, simply discover a version of himself that only sought opportunities and ignored the noise. Maybe they were right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fire burned deep within his soul, his ocean blue eyes casted upward in determination. If dreaming was the only thing he was capable of, he would dream the greatest dreams and wish for the day he could officially hear the truth from Eren, himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted to hear every bit of it. He wanted to know exactly why Eren treated him and Mikasa so poorly those last few days together. Armin was certain it was all an act, but doubt littered his mind. The only way to know for certain was to hear Eren say it to his face, whether or not he truly meant his words. No matter his answer, Armin would be satisfied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All he could do now was wait.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Today was especially windy it seemed, but that didn’t hinder any form of festivities in any way. Taking your usual route through the gates, you nodded good-naturedly to the Garrison who greeted you with apathy, clearly unconcerned. They appeared more focused on shielding their eyes from the bright light of the mid-morning sun and groaned with complaints of migraines. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You had to fake a cough out of sympathy, hiding the upward curve of your lips with the sleeve of your blouse; at least some things never changed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You stuck close to the walls, avoiding as many bodies as you could—years of weaving through crowds did you well. You were keenly aware of the shoving hands and prodding arms of the people on the street, almost like a tidal wave that threatened to swallow up a lone girl. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sharp scent of poppies assaulted your nostrils, a heady smell, not so different from the plants sewn onto the autumn bonnets you usually made around this time of year. The cobblestone roads of your valley town were rather crowded today, which you expected. A small celebration was to be held for the Prince’s fourth birthday, but you figured it was mostly an excuse to pull out the new bottles of wine and scrumpy on a weekday.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The members of your village all looked tired from making preparations for the day, but there was a certain vibrant appeal in their eyes you could not deny. You felt a tiny flutter in your heart at the thought, wondering if this would have ever been possible if you still lived within the walls—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmph!” Your attention was diverted when a tiny toddler plopped his bottom on the ground just in front of you. Halting in your steps, you stared curiously down into his crystal blue eyes, almost waiting for his face to redden with tears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, the child peered soundlessly at you, fingers gripped tightly around a stuffed bear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry!” His stressed and frustrated mother apologized profusely for his rebellious behavior, trying her best to keep him steady on his feet. You laughed warmly at the sight and forgave her, giving the tiny boy a wink which made him fold his arms even more aggressively. You continued to pass them, threading your way over to the stands of produce that indicated the start of the market.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You hadn’t much money nowadays, but it didn’t take a lot to provide for just one. Prices had slowly been lowering since the famine from the previous year, but this year had proved bountiful to make up for the yields lost. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your (h/c) hair fell gently into your eyes as you walked up to a vegetable stand. You brushed it aside, noting ruefully the thin fingers belonging to yourself. Maybe you should get some potatoes...you had some cream of mushroom that would fit well for a potato soup. Helping yourself to the open crates, you picked out the larger roots under the watchful eye of the shopkeeper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The morning air was fresh and carried many smells from baking bread to boxes of soap to sweat from working hands. “How much?” you asked. Until recently, your voice was rarely used at a tone higher than a loud whisper. Now that you had a housemate to speak with on a daily basis (well, not really daily anymore), it had grown more solid. There was a certain soft cadence to it that made calculating shopkeepers regard you warmly, though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About five copper coins a piece, Ma’am.” The man stroked his great brown mustache as he accepted the money and smiled at you before turning the other way to help another customer. You showed no sign of discomfort with the price, knowing that the inflation would fall shortly, but wishing that it had fallen sooner. You then dropped your purchase into your shopping basket and hurried on to several other stores.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Your visit to these stores only lasted for a short period of time, and eventually, your basket was piled high with plenty of food to last the week and more—even with Eren’s insatiable appetite.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your sigh deflated the natural perkiness of your being; it was as if a tension had lifted, yet it left you with an inescapable melancholy instead of relief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You tried not to think much about Eren. It only served to bring a frown to your face, the deep sorrow you felt whenever you witnessed the unsteadiness of his emotions. You selfishly wished Eren would just share whatever was bothering him, so you could at least understand the reason behind his torment, but he was as elusive as he was quiet. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Eren returned to your farmhouse in the middle of the same night to find you sitting on the living room couch, legs folded in the comfort of your nightgown and head propped neatly on the palm of your hand, waiting. You awoke from your light slumber and stood with a wooden crutch upon his entrance, firstly overviewing his body for any further injuries before allowing the flush of relief to comfort you. But even then, you did not feel relief. Eren had come back physically, but he made sure to leave his emotions out the door, face as impassive as ever.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He wandered the valley for twelve hours straight, but he didn’t appear to be aware of exactly how long he was out there. You did not speak, allowing him to collect himself and say whatever he needed. Well, what other reason would he be here now?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m sorry,” he uttered, clearing his throat of phlegm from disuse. You peered quietly into his bottle green eyes, wondering exactly when they had grown to look so empty and vacant. It broke your heart to see him so lost. After hours of imagining out the scenarios, you couldn’t convince yourself to yell at him for being so disrespectful and worrying you beyond belief like you originally planned.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Instead, your voice was welcoming and gentle. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You noticed his lips deepened into a scowl at your last statement, his nostrils flaring for just a second until he relaxed himself with hunched shoulders. He nodded his head, eyes glazed over and shifting to the left to stare at the wall. You sensed something was off, but with how unstable Eren had been today, you had no idea what could have been bothering him at that moment. Eren was an enigma.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“There’s some food on the table leftover from dinner,” you tried, tugging at the hems of your lavender-colored sleeves. “I’m heading to bed, so don’t make too much of a mess.” You offered him a weak smile, a sudden mist of exhaustion coming over you as you rubbed at your tired eyes. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>There were plenty of reasons for you to be upset or vengeful, but none you found useful. It was best to not treat Eren poorly after your mishap today—just one look in his tragic and despair-filled eyes was enough to silence you. As terribly heartbreaking a rejection could be, you felt it was important to continue supporting Eren as well as you could until he was ready to move on. It wasn’t his fault you messed up.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Eren made no movement to acknowledge your words. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>His dark brown hair fell forward to shield his face from you, released from its usual hold at the back of his head. You gazed curiously at the stained red shirt he was wearing, crusted over from the dried blood, and you once more shuddered at the thought of what had transpired earlier that day. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Respectfully, you tucked your crutch under your right armpit, keeping your distance and moved for the door of your bedroom. You had removed your wooden prosthetic for the evening when you started feeling unbearable phantom pains around dinner time. You normally tried not to walk around the house like that when Eren was around; from past experience, you knew it wasn’t something other people enjoyed seeing.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You clumped, but did not stumble, opening the door carefully with your crutch. You bid Eren a goodnight and just as you were about to shut yourself off, a tan hand shot out to stop you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Your (e/c) eyes were wide and stunning, the glimmer of moonlight from one of the living room windows providing a short ray to light up the delicate features of your face. Eren loomed over you, gazing through the crack of the door until you finally released your hold on the knob. He appeared somewhat distressed, as though he was unsure how to get out whatever words he wanted you to hear.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You waited patiently like you always did. A tiny part of you hoped you were wrong, that the mistake you made today wasn’t made only on your part, but his as well. An image of Eren’s half-lidded emerald eyes flitted across your vision; it was the most exhilarated you had felt in quite some time, truthfully. Even if it was for just a few moments, you no longer felt lonely and pitied, but attractive and beautiful.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It felt nice to finally confirm your feelings of attraction for Eren to yourself, but just as quick as it came, it was replaced with the torments of rejection and mystery. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Give me three days,” he demanded suddenly, unsure of how else to put it. He knew he was asking a lot. “I need three days and I will be gone.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You had no idea what was to come next for you. If Eren truly felt like he could trust you, he would have told you by now what was bothering him. It was clear he did not return your feelings.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You tried hard to not let this influence your next words, “Three days? You want to stay until Tuesday? What for?” You were thankful he offered you a time frame. It gave you an idea of how much time you needed to pack him a bag for his journey to wherever he wished to go.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’ll leave right now if that is what you want,” the most devastating shade of green bore deeply into your own, his features striking and impossible to look away from.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You shook your head and gave a half-hearted laugh in response. “No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. You can stay for however long you want. I just like to know when you’ll be leaving so I can give you a proper send-off.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He peered down on you, stoic and resigned. “Thank you.” He released his crushing grip on your door and walked away from you in the direction of the kitchen, allowing you to softly shut your door for privacy. He never gave you a definite answer as to why he wished to stay for three more days.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Ever since, for the last two days, Eren did not speak to you, sure to keep a respectful distance. He spent most of his days listlessly repairing the old fencing in the field behind your barn. What normally would take a group of men, Eren handled all on his own. He had it nearly completed, considering he spent dawn til dusk cutting, shaping, and nailing chicken wire.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps that was his reasoning to ask for three days? He wanted to fix the last thing your barn needed touch-ups on as a gesture of gratitude for allowing him to stay for so long?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were sure to keep the food readily available for him. Eren never sat down to eat dinner with you anymore, and he made sure to keep his distance when you were sitting by the fire. The days you once spent in close companionship were now replaced with silence</span>
  <em>
    <span>—</span>
  </em>
  <span>Eren was practically a ghost, now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You began the trek out of the village, the prairie not far from your vision. It was the entrance to your valley town, the only soil that stretched for about a mile rich enough for planting season. The land was as flat as a table, flat to the horizon in every direction. There were no mountains, no hills; nothing to block the view of the huge fields of waving wheat. You had about another mile of walking before your home would appear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your thoughts floated along in a stream, each one melding together in the most irritating way possible. You wondered how each of your decisions so far had led you up to this point. Were you fated for seclusion no matter your choices?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As an only child, your father used to comfort you in your times of loneliness: first, you had to master the art of being alone; then you would be ready for the company of others. Or so he would say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But that didn’t make it easy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When everyone’s life journey separated from your own, when you returned after four years away to a house where the only beating heart belonged to you, you struggled. There were days early on when your brain would become a cold fire</span>
  <em>
    <span>—</span>
  </em>
  <span>what one would call panic. It was tough for a 15-year-old girl to return home to discover her last living parent had passed on without her knowledge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You supposed the good news was that in time, after many unpleasant days, you were finally okay with being alone. You found joy again, or maybe it found you. You had mastered your solidarity and found yourself once more, just as your father encouraged. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps the reason why you and Eren got along so well was because you knew what it was like to be lost. There was nothing more isolating, nothing that brought more desolation to the soul. When he showed up on your doorstep that first day, you could tell he had been wandering that hopeless field and couldn't tell where he was headed next.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You started by introducing Eren to what life had in store for him beyond his demise. You offered him the presence of a friendly person who would not judge him for his mistakes, and saw him for the content of his character. He was just beginning to find himself, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But as you knew, the world had something else in store for him, however. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately for you, now that you became reaccustomed to the presence of another person, you found yourself rearing backward ever-so slightly into that state of loneliness when he was threatened to be taken away. That dependency left a bad taste in your mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You shook your head, noting the stiffness of your legs idly. There was no point in worrying over things you could not control in the moment. You trucked forward, eyes lifting to the sky, a wide expanse of blue with not a single mark of white, and searched for any signs. Now was a time you wished for the comfort and wisdom of your parents to help you navigate this difficult situation, but the sky left you no answer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The end of the prairie was drawing near, the shrubbery’s leaves swirling in the wind as if to beckon you home. Your copper farmhouse was within your vision now, standing rugged and robust despite the wind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the expanse of green, there were more hues than you could ever name, yet here they were for every eye to see. The land rolled as it always had, as if it felt that time and space were one thing, that it rolled through the ages as much as to the horizon. Over top laid a path, one that branched through the open landscape, and as you continued your walk, there was a frisson of joy for all the choices to come, each one of them laden with discoveries. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your shoulders pinned themselves back, head held higher despite the wind’s relentless attacks on your form. Something clicked inside you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You realized then that Eren’s presence in your life was truly a blessing. He was not meant to stay forever, but he was there to remind you of the dreams you once cherished so dearly:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were so many things you still needed to do, so many places to visit, so many people you wished to see once more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your grip tightened on your basket, fingers vice-like. It was then you promised yourself you would not crumble back into that lonely little girl after Eren’s departure. You were a grown woman now, meant to seek out the world. The beauty of your hometown was just one of millions you would witness in this life. No longer would the excuse of day-to-day life stop you from experiencing what you were entitled to: the glimmer of the sea, the dry and empty sand dunes, the unthinkable inventions of man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were going to see it all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a bit more pep in your step, you adjusted your long skirt in one hand to climb the steps to your farmhouse and peeked casually in the direction of the barn. You could not see Eren from your position, figuring he had finally worked his way round to the fencing closest to the building. A couple apples spilled from your basket from your wavering stride, your nose scrunching in frustration when they rolled to the corner of your porch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You slowly collected them before entering your home, the light filtering beautifully through the window panes. The smell of a freshly cleaned home always brought a smile to your face, having spent the day prior scrubbing down the walls from mud and dust. You placed your belongings on the kitchen table, turning to enter your room to change into clothes that would allow for more flexibility. Today, you planned to pack Eren a supply bag for his departure tomorrow, but before that, you figured that stain by the front door could use a good wash with your lemon-vinegar mix.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as you finished tying a sash around your over-sized shirt, several knocks rang throughout your residence. You quickly gathered yourself in hopes to calm the surging multitude of emotions you felt, wondering if you were expecting any company today. You padded lightly out of your bedroom, not even bothering to notice that Eren had just entered the backdoor to grab something for lunch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time you had reached your front door, you stumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your weariness was so strong that it was almost tangible, but you luckily found the smallest bits of energy in the darkest crevices of your body to greet whoever was at your door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your fingers draped themselves over the knob, pulling back to reveal the three<em>—</em>no, four people you had not seen in quite some time.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Is that...is that an actual plot? Pfffft, this oughta be good. </p><p>(Throws arms left, right, up, and down with each word) Character studies left and right, internal reflections, and only one devastatingly handsome Eren Yeager who may or may not be emotionally wasted and clinically insane? Okay that's cool.</p><p>This chapter, although not my greatest, I believe is essential for developing the bridges to a better understanding of character motives and the reader's purpose in all of this. Bruh, this placid lifestyle you been livin and tryna show Eren is probably gonna change, whether Eren leaves or not.</p><p>Thanks for sticking around with me for this long! I super duper appreciate all of your positive feedback, and I hope you all enjoy everything in your lives here and beyond!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“My dear, you look terrible!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those were the first words out of Mrs. Fairfax’s mouth when she ambled her way into your home, a whirlwind of color and cloth. Her words were something that would normally offend anyone who knew little of her, the owner of Fairfax Bakery in town, but you were well-accustomed to her rambunctious personality.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A delicate smile found its way to your lips. You were a little overwhelmed with the sudden presence of the Fairfax family, but overjoyed, nonetheless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Mrs. Fairfax—” you started but were briskly interrupted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How many times have I told you </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>to call me that,” she scolded in her aristocratic tone, eyebrows knitted together with irritation, “‘Terra’ will do just fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You gave a quick laugh that was a little forced on your part. If you weren’t careful, the woman just might finish off what the titans couldn’t themselves. “I’m sorry! I guess it’s just what I’m used to.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you been getting any sleep lately?” She completely ignored you, which was typical since you knew Terra wasn’t much for pleasantries or idle chit-chat. “You look a little flushed,” she said, her voice deafening and clear-cut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her hooded eyes resembled the orange-flecked deep yellow of the sun, a unique shade that could melt any cold heart. A graying, blonde fringe was blunted just above thinly plucked eyebrows, a style she kept all throughout her years. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The portly woman maneuvered her way past you, the back of a well-manicured hand placed lightly on your forehead. One long, plump arm stretched forward to tug gently on your sleeve, just unpleasant enough to leave you stuttering:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m-I’m fine, just trying to finish up some chores before the end of the season,” you commented, but Terra was having none of it. She pushed you by the shoulders to seat you on your couch—not even a second was allowed for you to greet the rest of her family properly. You could hear them lug themselves inside, murmuring in exasperation from the older woman’s antics, but none were brave enough to speak up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You watched as Terra bypassed you for the kitchen, moving at a speed you never thought possible for a woman at her age. You had never known anyone to be quite as flamboyant as Terra. Even outside of her household, she was set to please and entertain whoever she was visiting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She searched for the nearest kettle to begin brewing up some tea—she had been to your house so many times, she had your kitchen layout memorized by the time you turned twelve-years-old.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Terra was someone who knew your father long before he was forced to move within Wall Sina when the titans invaded Rose. They shared an abandoned barnhouse together with the rest of her family, and your father made certain to protect them when residents of Sina came to snuff them out. Terra was also present for his death when you could not be, and for that, you were eternally indebted to her and her family.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry about that…” Another voice drew your attention, speaking in all the cadence of a sweet song.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your demeanor was that of consistent love and warmth as you stood to embrace Terra’s daughter-in-law. Felicia was a woman fifteen years your senior and the gentle center of her family. As the baker’s wife, she was renowned for her taste in the culinary arts, but even more esteemed for her dedication to her family.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope the walk wasn’t too terrible?” you asked, receiving a prompt shake of the head. Her blonde curls were tied neatly in a low ponytail, and she was dressed in her typical, unembellished outfit; essentially, the total opposite of her mother-in-law, but the two got along very well from your knowledge. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just before you could turn to greet the final two members of the Fairfax family, a not-so subtle yelp resounded from Terra in the kitchen. You half-expected to find her crying out in pain, or perhaps maybe she had seen a rodent, but neither were the case.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You studied her, briefly distracted by her dress made from white, light pink, purple, and gold fabrics—she preferred bold colors and was fond of clothes that were fairly decorative and non-utilitarian. It was accentuated with lace sleeves, a low neckline, and cascaded neatly to her portly ankles. She was just in the process of removing her two-layered cape to set it along the back of one of your chairs when her mouth fell open, stunned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her amber eyes bore deeply into the broad, athletic back of the man sitting on your back porch, casually knifing away at one of the apples you had just brought home:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And who—” a strange twinkle fell in her eye as she turned to gape at you, a genuine smile—one you had not seen in quite some time—stretching from ear to ear like a Cheshire cat. “—Is that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From your position, you couldn’t see Eren, but you knew all too well he was pretending he couldn’t hear her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You assumed a hesitant front but soon acknowledged it was probably for the best to be frank and honest with Terra. She was someone who liked to see the world in black and white; you could tell she was already picturing up a few </span>
  <em>
    <span>whimsical</span>
  </em>
  <span> ideas.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eren is an old friend of mine from the Survey Corps. He’s been helping me around the farm these past few weeks,” you answered truthfully, watching as Felicia nodded her head in understanding. You refrained from expanding any further beyond that statement, unsure of what you could and could not disclose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How kind,” Felicia chimed, lips tilting up at the corners warmly, “it must be nice to see someone from your old Regiment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meanwhile, Terra appeared absolutely fascinated, peering at Eren, balancing on her tiptoes to catch a better glance. “Look at him~” her fingers curled around the edges of her coat, her face stretched in what one could only describe as complete awe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quit being creepy, Grandma.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You watched Felicia’s eldest daughter as she impassively rolled her eyes, muffling your laughter with the palm of your hand when fumes erupted from Terra’s nose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hush, child. A woman is never too old to appreciate a fine specimen of man.” You truly prayed that Eren could not hear her commentating through the thin glass of your backdoor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In an attempt to reign the conversation back in, you officially took the moment to greet Remi, Felicia’s quiet and slightly-callous daughter. She had wolfish, amber eyes like limpid pools of gold that adorned her exceptionally pale face, attributed to reading books all day in the confines of her home. Her blonde hair was cut short in a bob, accompanied by an aquiline nose and chalky pink lips. She reminded you of a ghost; a very solid one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was then you noticed the tiny bundle in her arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this..?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, we brought her for a visit. She’s about a week old; although, we haven’t decided on a name yet,” Felicia offered softly, her hand lifting to scratch at her cheek as she giggled sheepishly. This drew Terra’s attention back to your group, deciding her newborn grandchild was far more worthy to fawn over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to name her after Queen Historia. She’s quite the angel, my grandbaby,” Terra stated and tried to wave casually with one hand to cover-up her gushing, but pride oozed from her tone. It was clear that they were her greatest possessions, her family. “But my son is convinced it’s too orthodox.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her comment brought on a strange sense of nostalgia, your lips curled upward in secret memory. You grew quiet at the sight of the pink-skinned baby, swaddled tightly in the arms of her older sister. She stirred in the rough canvas of her blanket just as you placed your hands on your knees to catch a better look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s very beautiful,” you offered in a hushed tone, “looks just like her older sister.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Remi scoffed at your shameless grin, freckled cheeks becoming faintly pink from your obvious teasing. “Whatever,” she grunted, amber-colored eyes narrowed in annoyance. The girl only had time to blink once before her baby sister gurgled, a little fussy and agitated from being awoken from her nap. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I only speak the truth!” you swore before cooing quietly at the baby. Delicate fingers moved forward to smooth the tuft of blonde which adorned her skull, her breath soft on the back of your hand. You’ve seen a fair amount of babies in your lifetime, and after little deliberation, you were certain this baby was one of the cutest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rising back up to your full height, your arms lifted in front of you to tap the side of one fist against your open palm in realization. “Christa,” you blurted. It’s suddenness surprised even you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Remi passed her baby sister to her mother, the lot of them finding comfortable positions on the couch as Felicia worked to calm the newborn down. Felicia gazed curiously up at you, unsure of what you said. “Christa?” She asked in clarification, earning her a nod.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You stepped back for a moment to assess the baby, your eyes glazing over in memory as you remembered the first time you spoke to Historia when you were cadets. She was your assigned combat partner for the first few months of training, considering you were both similar in height. At least until you were more experienced and ready to take on larger opponents, the two of you were termed as “The Pint-Sized Housemaids” by your head instructor, Shadis.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was not an endearing term by the slightest, usually interchanged with </span>
  <em>
    <span>far</span>
  </em>
  <span> more insulting words you did not wish to reiterate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you want to name her in memory of the Queen, ‘Christa’ was the name she lived by when she was a Scout.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Remi’s eyes twinkled with fascination at your explanation, her love for knowledge and odd facts brazenly apparent in that moment. “I didn’t know that.” She let out a sharp exhale from her nose. “I forgot you were useful for these kinds of things, (y/n).” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure if I want to know what you mean by that,” you laughed nervously, taking a seat in the old rocking chair by the fire. Your fingers deftly folded themselves into the fabric of your cotton pants, a little embarrassed for speaking so blatantly about something that was truly none of your business. “I’m not saying you should name her ‘Christa.’ I just thought...well, I don’t know what I was thinking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll bring it up to Pierre,” Felicia smiled genuinely. “It’s cute.” For a woman in postpartum, you were pleased to see Felicia was up and about, and her kind nature never faltered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bags under her dark brown eyes became even more apparent when her newborn started whimpering, and automatically, your benevolent nature instinctively kicked in. You offered to take the child off her hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But just as Felicia was about to respond, something in your brain clicked, and you froze. Distracted by ten-year-old memories and the baby, you never noticed Terra was drowning out your conversation with her own voice. It was pitched higher than normal, but oddly enough, it wasn’t directed to anyone sitting in the living room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were unblinking, pallid, and suddenly your facial expression sank faster than a coin on a pond.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every thought in your mind was silenced as you erupted from your chair. You asked Felicia to forgive you and pleaded silently with only your eyes to step away and handle the sudden situation forming outside your backdoor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felicia seemed to notice her mother-in-law’s sudden detachment from your group as well, nodding wordlessly with a look of pity and understanding for what you were about to face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“—Oh my, a warrior,” you nearly face-palmed when you saw Terra’s large form hanging halfway out the backdoor. You were tuning in partway into their conversation. Terra nearly purred with laughter at the intense look on Eren’s face. “Just like my little (y/n), so courageous!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You could only imagine how you must look with horror written all over your features, the way how your watery eyes enlarged and the hairs on the back of your neck bristled. You felt clammy just thinking about what Terra might do if she dragged Eren into one of her prying, uncomfortable conversations. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why weren’t you more weary? You should have known the old woman would try to pull him into something like this, and you weren’t sure if you could handle both the Fairfax’s and Eren in the same room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, it was important to remember that for the last </span>
  <em>
    <span>two </span>
  </em>
  <span>days, Eren had made it a point to detach himself from his environment. He had successfully begun to revert back to the stranger who first knocked on your door all those weeks ago. All progress made in getting him to crawl out of his shell was seemingly gone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You no longer knew how to approach him. After days of trying different methods, the only thing that seemed to work was if you asked him for help with anything. But even then, he continued his unemotional streak with only simple nods and hums of understanding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It broke your heart to think about how off-limits Eren made himself. In conclusion, Terra would only serve to disrupt the balance. Perhaps even upset him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a tired sigh, you pulled your shoulders back in false confidence as if the physical action could spur the actual emotion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“T-Terra? I don’t think Eren wants to be bothered right now,” you said as firmly as you could, walking closer to step behind the portly woman and peer quietly over her shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were surprised to find that Eren was standing and angled toward the door. Stony emeralds rested over that natural scowl his resting face always took on, brunette hair pulled loosely back. A pang of discouragement ran through you, but you steeled yourself, knowing it was only temporary. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His wholesome eyes finally made contact with your own, the first time he’d truly looked at you since the last conversation you had in your bedroom doorway. Something flashed beneath the surface of his hardened expression, and you hurried to investigate the sudden shift. It was too late, the emotion disappeared before you could identify it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nonsense! We’re getting along just fine! Aren’t we, Mr.—” Terra paused, awaiting his response. This was one of the things you found strange, yet admirable about the blonde-haired woman. With old age came little care for what others thought about her—Terra was not afraid to show people exactly who she was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kruger.” There was that low roll of thunder which typically characterized Eren’s deep tone, something you hadn’t heard in what felt like forever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Kruger.” She offered her hand to Eren, palm flipped downward and fingers glued together, as though she were awaiting him to kiss her hand. Little did she know that Eren was </span>
  <em>
    <span>notorious</span>
  </em>
  <span> for his poor wits. He always took jokes far too seriously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To both Terra’s and your surprise, he reached forward to grasp Terra’s hand firmly and gave it a good shake. Your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, unsure of what Terra would do next. This was new. No one ever denied Terra from the respect she felt entitled to!</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Usually because most feared what she would do if they didn’t comply,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> you thought anxiously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For Terra, however, Eren Kruger was a diamond in the rough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She surveyed his features for a moment when he released her hand, sliding her eyes back and forth between the two of you. And as though Eren’s blatant handshake had never happened, she disregarded it all with the wave of her hand. “Well, I hope we will get along well enough, Mr. Kruger.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope for the same,” Eren grunted out without missing a beat.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Eh?”  </span>
  </em>
  <span>You nearly collapsed within yourself right then and there. Did...Did Terra actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>like </span>
  </em>
  <span>Eren?? No, ‘like’ wasn’t the correct word. She had finally found someone willing to challenge her authority. Eren… he was quiet, but the shroud of his dominating aura was one hard to ignore. Terra was simply loud and a powerful presence in every room she entered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Surely, Eren was handsome beyond reason, but that wasn’t why Terra liked him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She liked him because he was a challenge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, you regained your sanity, and you wondered for a moment why Eren lied about his last name. You assumed he didn’t want to draw attention to himself. All of Paradis knew of Eren Yeager, afterall. His known presence in Krolva would only serve to stir an uproar—it was why he never accompanied you in town.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You shook the thought away, your hands idly lifting to twist at a stray lock of hair. It was up to you to get this situation under control. “Well, Eren, we’ll let you get back to your lunch!” You chimed, a little </span>
  <em>
    <span>too </span>
  </em>
  <span>cheerful. Don’t get it wrong, as much as you’d love to spend more time with the tall brunette, you didn’t wish to bother him any further nor impede on any of his self-assigned chores.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You could feel Terra grasp at the sleeve of your shirt when you attempted to saunter back into the living room, her nails sharp and digging. You gulped and wondered how it would feel if she were actually grabbing your arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A lunch break? Well I was just about to brew up some tea.” You knew exactly where she was headed next with that statement, and you imagined sinking deeper and deeper within yourself in hopes of just disappearing altogether. “Why don’t you come inside? Come meet my granddaughters. My youngest was born not too long ago; it would only be kind to greet her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her coercion was strong. Terra no stranger to the art of compulsion. She started it off as a suggestion before quickly turning it into a well-hidden demand. Her low-platform heels clopped noisily along the hardwood, leaving you behind to stand in the doorway with Eren. She immediately began preparing the water to brew tea, not even bothering to confirm that Eren was going to come inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Terra knew he would. She’d seen the way how he stared so intensely at you when you came up behind her, like you were a gulp of fresh water after wandering lost in a desert for days.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, yeah. If Mr. Kruger had any sort of a brain, Terra knew he wasn’t going anywhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren’s green eyes connected with your own, and for some reason unknown to you, his expression bothered you dearly. His long legs rested on different steps, paused mid-stride to keep a respectful distance. His body language sent off vibes of hesitation, unsure if he were permitted to enter. In the end, it was really up to you on what he would decide.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t feel like you have to,” you told him, your voice meek and demure. After two days of near silence, this was the most conversation you had shared with Eren.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His neutral scowl remained firm on his face when he shrugged his strong shoulders, the sharp curve of his jaw relaxing. “I just want to see the baby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You remembered the conversation you had with Eren all those weeks ago, the night you first felt truly enraptured by the mystery that was him:</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Maybe, I’ll take you when I deliver it as a gift?” You tried, watching as Eren made no movement to neither confirm nor deny your request. “That way, maybe I can teach you how to swaddle a baby.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A sparkling smile lit up your features, but you didn’t want him to feel pressured to have to do anything. It was simply an offer and nothing more, but what surprised you most was his response:</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I would like that.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>A gentle smile worked its way onto your features, content and gratified with Eren’s motives. Happiness swelled in your heart at the minuscule amount of excitement he emitted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He just wanted to hold the baby. Maybe you were wrong about Terra starting a conversation with Eren; this was exactly what he needed to pull himself back out of his shell.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>For the next hour, your living room was lively and full of people, most of the conversation supplied by Terra with little tidbits from Felicia. She talked incessantly but never too quickly, allowing for pleasant pauses between each sentence. She was an excellent entertainer, tailoring her jokes around commonalities she shared with you and Eren. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Years of beguiling and charming guests at her family-owned bakery served her well—so well in fact that she even drew a few chuckles from the normally well-composed Eren.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The farmhouse walls were coldset oatmeal, painted brown with window frames of mahogany. The gentle crackle of the hearth to your right brought you comfort, chairs pulled inward toward the warmth. Majority of the Fairfax family sat on your sofa while Terra rested in the old rocking chair, placed close for better conversation. If it weren’t for Terra’s insistence, Eren would have been standing in the corner a little ways off. Instead, he was seated in a spare dining chair to your left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was currently engulfed in conversation, explaining the myths of electricity to Terra and Felicia from his experience and knowledge of the topic. That sensation of static buzzed unkindly in your head, stirring up unwanted feelings of strain, yet magnetism as you listened to Eren speak, well-educated and only half a foot away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes were no longer green in the light of the fire, but a mesmerizing teal with flecks of silvery light. His face was strong and defined, features molded from granite and a jawline that could cut even the toughest of metals. Dark eyebrows sloped downward in a serious expression as though he were ready to start a verbal war with Terra, and his usually inexpressive scowl had drawn into a hard line across his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You fidgeted uncomfortably in your chair, long eyelashes falling as you stared mutely at the copper-colored mug resting in your lap, hands cupped around the sides. You silently vowed to try your best to keep from looking at Eren too often. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>However, it did please you beyond no end to see his spirit come to life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tea swirled in a golden glaze, blended perfectly by Terra. In a brief moment of desire for a distraction, you were compelled into gulping down the hot liquid a little too eagerly, hissing quietly when it scalded your tongue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You assumed no one noticed until you caught sight of Felicia’s gaze, her lips dipped downward in a delicate frown. A tired, modest smile was all you could give her for comfort, settling on listening to Eren and Terra argue over how a lightning bolt could possibly be trapped inside a glass bulb. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A minute later, and Eren let out a terse scoff, one meant to sneer at Terra’s unwillingness to listen. Despite its negative connotation, you couldn’t help the joy filling your heart, little bits spilling over when a sudden, charming grin flashed delightfully along your visage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren was normally impassive during conversation, but you could pinpoint the specks of the old Eren you once remembered, the pieces of his true personality before he mellowed out and matured with age. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>From the way his eyebrows furrowed deeply on his forehead to how his voice quickened with new ideas, you could tell he was being passionate and arbitrary. The emotions came easily for him, and for once, he didn’t look like he was carrying the whole weight of the world on his shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You weren’t someone to play favorites, but you undoubtedly preferred this Eren over the tragic and stoic one he had been portraying these last two days.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Toward the end of the Fairfax’s visit, you suddenly remembered the parcel sitting forgotten on the top of your bedroom dresser, the blanket you had stitched for the newborn. You left to collect the package, nearly falling over when your crippled leg was suddenly seized by stiffness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, (y/n), why don’t you let Remi grab it for you?” Felicia asked when she noticed your slight limp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s no problem!” You replied cheerfully, but internally, you were groaning with pain. Your gaze remained glued to the floor, avoiding Eren’s intense stare as you shuffled along. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, she’s fine, Felicia,” Terra dismissed. You made a short mental note to thank Terra for defending your pride, but you completely understood Felicia’s worry and didn’t feel upset.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Really, if it weren’t for that day spent with Eren fixing the barn door, you probably would have taken more offense:</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s okay to let others help me. I’m already capable enough as it is.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The thought brightened your features like a light, appreciative for this newfound realization.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You collected the parcel from your bedroom, turning it over in your hands a few times to ensure the package was intact. You returned just in time to nearly collide with Remi as she briefly mumbled she was going outside to grab some air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was so quiet the entire visit, you nearly forgot she was there in the first place. “Okay, are you sure? I have a present for your baby sister if you want to see?” You offered a tender-hearted smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I just have to get out,” she stated almost ruefully, brushing her honey-colored hair behind her ear. Remi truly never looked more like a ghost than she did now when her amber eyes glowered darkly. She left the house, not even bothered to put on her shoes. You contemplated what had her so upset, but now that you thought about it, Remi never uttered a word since you all sat down around the fire.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sure, she had borrowed a book from your tiny library for reading because “conversations are boring,” or however she put it. That could have been the reason for her silence, but there were certainly times you noticed her louring tensely in your direction. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or more accurately: In Eren’s direction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You mulled over why she watched Eren so suspiciously, but grew distracted when the floorboards suddenly creaked loudly. Felicia rose to her feet, posture hunched and biting her lip, looking for somewhere to place her newborn, so she could follow after her eldest. A deeply set frown emerged on her face, bringing forward wrinkles you had never seen before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without much deliberation, you instantly strode forward and passed the parcel to Eren, holding out your arms for Felicia. The mother apologized endlessly, her words flowing in perpetual frustration while she handed you the baby girl. You held the child to your shoulder, subconsciously noticing how she was smaller than a bag of flour from the grocers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Terra squeezed your hand with both of her own, thanking you for allowing her to visit with her family for the evening. “I have to check on Remi, but I just want you to know your father would be so proud of how well you’re thriving. He always spoke so highly of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her words were so random, it stunned you for a moment. “Um-thank you, Felicia.” You decided to stick with the simplest response. You noticed her words peaked Eren’s attention, green eyes lighting with interest about your personal history you spoke so little of. It was only natural for him to be curious, right? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felicia kissed her baby good-bye for the moment, and the newborn’s smile was as sweet as a summer strawberry, filling you with a sunshine you never knew existed in the world. “We’ll be outside whenever you’re ready, Mom,” she said to Terra and left to chase after her daughter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With newfound conviction, you moved to sit on the middle of your sofa, adjusting the child to find her tiny toes peeking from her blanket. Her head, a crazy tuft of blond curls yet to be rubbed bald from lying in her crib, wobbled beneath your supporting hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have a gift for you,” you murmured sweetly. You scanned Terra’s features and received confirmation to unswaddle the child, and you looked to Eren for the parcel which carried your homemade swaddling blanket. After a few seconds of hesitation, he began to unravel it as you laid her flat along the couch, keeping her close so Eren could watch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You removed her old blanket, watching as she kicked her legs in a tiny jagged motion. You wondered if she was unsettled or relieved—it must have been pretty cramped in there. When the child stretched her hands, they barely rose above her head, and you took the moment to scoop her gently into your arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be afraid, Mr. Kruger,” Terra laughed heartily when he wavered. “She won’t bite you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not a word came from Eren, your eyes traveling upward to catch him peering in amazement at how tiny and vulnerable the baby was in your arms. He pulled his chair closer, now sitting with his knees pressed flush against the cushion that once held the baby. Terra stood to hover alongside your shoulder, watching with amusement and glee when her granddaughter gurgled up a few messy bubbles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You cleaned her face with her old blanket, lifting her higher for Eren. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, Eren,” you whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She looks like a doll,” he said to himself, his voice taking on an edge of bewilderment. Terra stepped forward and watched as the baby tilted her head to your chest in search of warmth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have yet to decide on a name,” she offered to Eren softly. For as loud and boisterous you knew Terra to be, her quiet inflection was something strange for you to hear, yet fitting for the situation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can touch her,” you told him next, his hesitation obvious in his movements. Slowly, he moved closer and offered a hand to the newborn. Tiny fingers curled around his large pinky, and just like that, he was mesmerized by her. You could see the tiniest bit of happiness swell in him when the child opened her golden eyes in curiosity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We Fairfax women know a handsome face when we see one,” Terra laughed, and her eyes fluttered to send you a knowing wink. You tried to ignore her poorly-hidden message, but then you suddenly grew aware of the feeling of Eren’s warm breath brushing against your ear. He failed to recognize the small exchange between you and Terra.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was practically hip to hip with you, hunched over to stare noiselessly at the newborn. You were close enough for his musky scent to make your brain swim with a heady intoxication, palms growing sweaty and face burning bright. It wasn’t simply from the closeness of a man that made you so flustered like Terra probably thought; rather, it was the half-smile adorning his lips and his green eyes that promised a rising sense of warmth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As if that gray world of his had somehow sprung hope, he looked at peace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“W-would you like to hold her?” You asked, peering privately at the stray strands of hair that fell forward from his hair tie to frame his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You studied the exotic slant of his bottle green eyes when they lifted to make contact. It had been a while since Eren last looked at you so truly, and it felt like you were walking on water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You blinked curiously up at him, your thin arms stretching forward. You could see the cogs in his brain start to turn when he remembered what he was supposed to be doing. Slowly and steadily, he offered his arms, unsure of how to hold the child, but any distraction from you would suffice at this point. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The transition was awkward, and you had to remind Eren to hold her head. “Is this your first time holding a baby, Mr. Kruger?” Terra asked. Eren nodded his head, eyes unmoving from the child.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And wow, what a sight it was. You always associated Eren with everything brutal in this world, always screaming about how he was going to murder all the titans with his own two hands. During those years, he had spent so much time fighting for the future of humanity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was strange for you to see him holding that very future he fought so hard for. No longer was he brutal and harsh, but gentle and humane when cradling that baby girl in his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You finished unraveling the blue parcel to reveal the baby blue blanket, soft and pliable in your hands. You laid it flat on the couch cushion and folded one corner for whenever Eren was ready to let her go. It wasn’t long before the child began to fret and cry, reaching for Eren’s long brown tresses and pulling with uncontrollable strength. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You laughed heartily, earning you a glare from the brunette as he deposited the baby back in your arms. Eren faltered when she pulled his head down with her, and you had to pry her left hand from his hair before you could lay her back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to show you how to swaddle her, okay?” You said, folding the newborn with the left and right corners before bringing up the bottom to tuck it in tightly. It was a very simple process, and the baby appeared rather satisfied with the comfort of the yarn on her delicate skin—much better than the old rough canvas she had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s beautiful, my dear, you always make the best blankets,” Terra complimented, peering from the other side of your shoulder, “but why did you make it blue?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you see…” you laughed nervously, scratching a nonexistent itch on your cheek. “I guess I thought she was going to be a boy.” You undid the swaddle hold you had the baby in, turning her to the side so Eren could give it a try himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A boy? What makes you say that?” Terra questioned. She watched as Eren fumbled with the blanket and struggled to tuck the newborn’s arms in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you would’ve known!” You laughed with embarrassment, “Don’t you remember what my dad used to say?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I usually chose to ignore most of the things your father said to me—please help him, dear, he’s struggling” Terra stated matter-of-factly before pointing to an increasingly frustrated Eren as he couldn’t figure out how to keep the giggling baby from bouncing out of his grasp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You leaned forward to Eren’s side, tickling the baby’s rounded belly. Her arms lowered then and with a victory cry that could rival that of your former Commander Erwin Smith, he tucked the final piece and had her swaddled correctly. It was a loose fold, but satisfactory, nonetheless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You got it!” You smiled happily at him, just pleased this afternoon with Terra’s granddaughter could bring him joy. Turning to answer Terra on your theories of gender prediction, the words halted in your throat when you saw her smirk in the most devilish way possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That little moment between you was all she needed to confirm your feelings for Eren. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your heart raced from the embarrassment of being caught—you could not hide anything from Terra.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>“I’m so thankful to have you all stop by today.” Your voice was authentic and certain as you hugged Felicia and gave the sleeping baby in her arms a quick kiss on the forehead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You stood with the Fairfax family at the end of the walkway leading up to your farmhouse, bidding them a safe journey when the wind carried fine drops, a promise of rain soon to come. The autumn breeze had a way of moving your hair, of tousling it into buoyant curls, and it carried with it the fragrance of the earth. Essentially, it was another questionable fall evening, one that felt more like spring than anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Remi offered you a curt nod in good-bye, her eyes gleaming with recognition as you waved timidly to the angsty teenager. But much like clockwork, she was full of loathing when she spotted Eren in the distance—casually leaned against the vertical post of your porch with arms folded over one another—and narrowed her eyes in contempt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Terra ushered them along, and you watched as Remi and Felicia began their trek home. The tall woman’s gaze pierced you right between the eyes, a lump forming in your throat as she coaxed you into a hug with strong arms that told every part of you—body, brain, and soul—that she would always be with you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>bring Mr. Kruger to visit us again very soon,” Terra laughed enthusiastically when you squirmed under the pressure of her arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eren leaves tomorrow for the South, Terra,” you reminded her with a warning, a hint of pleading in your voice. You hadn’t expected Terra to grow so attached to Eren in the short time she was there, and the last thing you wanted was to place that burden on him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gosh, you were so thankful he was out of earshot. The thought of Terra pulling something that would embarrass you for </span>
  <em>
    <span>years </span>
  </em>
  <span>to come terrified you beyond reason.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think he’s going anywhere soon, my love.” You blinked twice, unmoving from her hold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What makes you say that?” you stuttered quietly, unsure if you should be pleased or insecure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Terra pulled back then, wrinkles stretched thin to reveal the beauty of her smile. “Only the obvious.” She wrapped her cloak a little tighter around her form when it slid from her shoulders, her eyes radiating with vicarious joy. “I’ve never seen a man mirror someone so closely like that in quite some years—he’s rather infatuated with you, my dear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The autumn gusts tousled your hair once more as you stepped backward and avoided Terra’s gaze to stare to your right. The warmth that had been in the wind just last week had either evaporated into the sky or leached into the earth. It gave life to the long grass at the side of the road, still yellowing from the high sun. The strands swayed out of time with gusts, a stamp of your childhood when you once played amongst the grass in search of bugs and frogs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You thought about denying her words, but let it pass for you didn’t wish to start an unwanted lecture.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come and visit us again soon.” She kissed your forehead, eyes kind as she left to catch up with her family.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You slowly walked back to your home, head lowered and arms folded when a chilling breeze rose goosebumps along your skin. Leaves of red and brown flew past in a whirl of motion, signifying the darkness that was to come.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You mulled over Terra’s words and blatant winking that made your stomach churn from embarrassment. Were you that obvious? Could she tell you didn’t want Eren to leave?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You had known Terra for many years, so it would only be natural that she could detect your selfish desire. Truly, you did not want Eren to leave, but you were sure to chalk it up to be a childish fancy you had no problem qualming. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sure, you had grown rather close to Eren over the past few weeks, but it was nothing more than a companionship of two old friends who hadn’t seen each other in many years…Or at least, that was what you told yourself. There was no denying the attraction you felt, but years of wisdom ingrained within you told you to not expect much from your peculiar relationship with Eren.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once at the bottom of the steps of your home, you caught a glimpse of Eren’s impassive scowling before deciding to take a seat along the middle steps of your porch. He made no indication of movement, his body still sloped against the post opposite of you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The silence was deafening to you, and as much as you hoped Eren would spark up a conversation, he held steadfast in his quietude. Once more, he reverted back to a stranger, which meant the conversations were to be dictated by your voice alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As a creature who thrived upon familiarity, you sparked up a discussion which turned out to be more like a monologue than a conversation. You spoke of how delicious the baker’s muffins were, how jam-packed the town was today, and anything else your senses picked up on. For minutes, Eren didn’t move, quietly listening and examining you when you weren’t looking. You gushed about the sight of a patch of daisies growing idly along the sidewalk at the end of your road, pausing at the memory before wondering why you even bothered to mention the flowers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You remained quiet after that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At first, you were quite alright with just letting him listen, but after spending weeks listening to the hum and rumble of his voice, you realized how much you hated hearing your own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just in his inflection, you could tell exactly how he was feeling, but now that he did not speak to you, he was as mysterious as ever before. You didn’t care whether he liked or despised hearing you talk, you just wanted to know what he was thinking behind those devastating and despair-filled eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You figured you must have done something terribly wrong to make him this way. There was no logical reason how an </span>
  <em>
    <span>almost </span>
  </em>
  <span>kiss attempt on both your ends was enough to make him act so disengaged from you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a while there, you dreamed of him staying with you for good—just simple living like you had done for all these years on your own, but this time with a companion. It was wrong for you to think that way, so you blamed it upon your dreams for giving you such ideas. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“How naive,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>you thought to yourself, wondering when you had grown so soft. A simple crush was all it was, much like a child’s. In all honesty, Eren must have sensed your pining and felt remorseful, repulsed by the idea of growing attached to a sad, crippled woman with no real intentions in life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In spite of everything, you sighed deeply to chase away all the evil thoughts that lingered so heavily. None of that was true. The time you had with Eren wasn’t something to be disappointed about, but rather, treasured. No matter his disposition, you couldn’t allow your childish disappointment to keep you from at least appreciating his company. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With this thought in mind, you radiated contentment, “Thank you for spending time with us today. I know it was a bit out of the way for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You looked back just in time to catch Eren simply nodding his head, his emerald eyes staring off in the distance. With a mild exhale, you looked forward to the horizon as well. Perhaps you should ask him when he planned to leave tomorrow? There was much to be done to help prepare him for a successful trip, wherever he may be going. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was my first time holding a baby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your head jerked upward to stare at Eren’s mouth, unsure if those words truly came from him, but he said nothing more for elaboration. His eyebrows furrowed ever-so slightly as he remembered the moment. Long fingers lifted to twist the lock of hair the baby had latched on to with her fists.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did well for your first time. She seemed to really like you,” you commented thoughtfully. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You watched as the wind pushed and pulled the grass at the end of your road this way and that. The buds bloomed beautifully at this time of season, a sign that winter was just around the corner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren’s face angled downward to face you for a moment. He hesitated briefly, watching the golden rays of sun reflect themselves on the shine of your hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why did you choose to make the blanket blue?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You adjusted the waistline of your pants to rest higher on your hips—they seemed to ache more and more as the years went on from your awkward gait. So he was paying attention to your conversation with Terra?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A memory of your father flashed briefly in your vision before you turned to answer, “One day, my father rushed up to me when I was out in the field stringing the green beans of spring harvest. I remembered it so well because he had looked so terrifying dressed in mud, sticks, and leaves. He was carrying an illegal rifle meant for private use.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren surveyed the bluebird sky—broken only with a smattering of picture-book clouds—but you knew he was listening to your story from the tilt of his head. You paused to see if he would move in question, but he simply waited patiently for you to gather your thoughts:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He ran straight through the plow as though he had news that could change everything, so I’m sure you could imagine how disappointed I was when he told me he had discovered the secret rule to identifying the genders of babies before they are born,” you grinned enthusiastically at the memory, remembering how wild your father could be at times. “He told me when mothers show low in their stomachs, they tend to have males. And when mothers show high in their stomachs, they would have females.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The air suddenly felt velvety on your skin, clouds drifting by on the most relaxed of breezes to allow the sun to peek through. It was a spa from the time the light filtered over the hills until it took its rest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You inhaled the fresh air deeply. “There was no reason for him to tell me. It was so out of the blue, I nearly took him to the town doctor for having such crazy thoughts and for studying the pregnant women of the village—who in the world would do such a thing?” You wondered aloud. “But I noticed one day, Felicia near the end of her pregnancy was carrying very low, so I suppose I chose blue for the yarn out of memory of my dad.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You pursed your lips thoughtfully and soon gave way to a miniature smile. “Of course, he was wrong.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You couldn’t help the lazy and shy drifting of your eyes, Eren’s face impossible to discern. </span>
  <span>He made no further comments regarding your story, perhaps because he felt there was no further need for impromptu chatting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stood with shoulders pinned back and spine erect, but not in a way one would say was cocky or too proud. His clothes were baggy and deceitful to the eye of anyone who did not know him. Puberty had done him all the justice in the world, you thought. Eren was sculpted and lean as expected of all soldiers if they wanted to live beyond the Training Corps, and it was almost scary how strong he was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You remembered there was once a time even </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, yes </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, were just as chiseled from using your ODM gear on a daily basis and the weight-training you did with Mikasa and Sasha. Of course, that muscle had all dissipated with time. Instead, they were replaced with soft curves you didn’t appreciate as much, but your work outdoors kept you in decent shape.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You wondered how Mikasa and Sasha were, having not heard from them for eight years or so. It didn’t take much to get you thinking about why Mikasa wasn’t with Eren at this point in time, and you mused on whether Sasha made it back home to live with her family—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren’s voice came unexpectedly. It was low with an agreeable trace of huskiness, yet sudden, “Felicia’s daughter recognized me today. I can only imagine she wasn’t the only one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You nodded your head solemnly. Remi was an observant and clever girl, steady in her thoughts. The blonde teenager you met today was nothing like the normal Remi you knew.  “I knew it was a risk bringing you inside. I should have been more careful.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You shouldered the blame willingly, but your spirit of inquiry nearly made you question Eren aloud as to what reason Remi had to hate him so terrifying and true. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The more you learned of Eren, the more you battled with your inner dialogue on whether you wished to know more or not. There was no denying the kindness you have seen within Eren these past weeks, yet a darker and more sinister reality lay hidden beneath the surface. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Naturally, your optimistic judgement of people overruled your cynicism, and you decided it was best to focus on the person Eren was trying to be now rather than who he had to be in his past. Who were you to bring judgement upon something you could never understand yourself? Even if the details were laid clearly before you in organized leather folders, it would be impossible for you to truly conclude the actions of people.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You knew Eren to be an honest, determined individual, faithful and dedicated to protecting the people of the walls. Whatever decisions he made beyond your knowledge, you were certain he made them with total devotion to his character. Even if it meant losing a part of himself along the way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You regarded Eren warmly and stood from your seat, pausing just before the threshold to stare firmly at the peeling paint, your heartbeat suddenly audible. It was obvious to you throughout your entire excursion—Eren wanted to connect with people, but whatever tortured his mind was stopping him from doing so. You would have to abate your wishes for him to open up any further to you and continue to respect him as an individual.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You swallowed the massive lump in your throat, your breath shaky. This promise you were about to make was one of the toughest you would have to pledge yourself to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wind howled torturously at you, prompting you to tuck the loose strands of your hair behind your ears. Your (e/c) eyes gleamed full of confidence, neck craning upward to meet the silently mesmerized Eren who noticed your hesitance from the top of the stairs. Silence reigned over you, much like it had weeks ago when he first opened up to you about the sea in this very spot. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There isn’t much I can do for you, I know,” you began, voice strong and delightful, “And I don’t want to put myself where I don’t belong. But whatever decisions you make, no matter what, I want you to know I’ll always be here for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took a second or two for the new information to sink in, even though it was right before his eyes, larger than life. His lips parted ever-so slightly before coming together to create a united front, his emerald gaze fixed on the post, the ceiling—anything that wasn’t you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The intensity of his green eyes clashed with your own then, and his head nodded only once, the movement barely noticeable if it weren’t for your attentiveness and composed behavior.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You suddenly felt awkward under his gaze:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, that sounded a little more serious than I intended,” your laugh was lovely and like silk, careening alluringly in a way that made his legs weak, little did you know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You excused yourself then, unwilling to show how much he truly had an effect on you. Your legs carried you past Eren and to the front door, the gales encouraging you along into the safety of your home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whether or not Eren stayed, it was something you could not control. You simply needed to begin accepting that the familiarity of having a housemate would soon be replaced with the incessance of living alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What you could control, however, was the lesson you would take from this experience with Eren. There was no reason for you to remain cooped up in your home. Possibly, if you could convince Mr. Goodish to take care of your barn animals, you would travel the island and visit the places you’d always wanted to see in your youth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes. That was one thing you were truly grateful for: Eren had reminded you of the dreams you once possessed as a child.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were a few things that needed to be done to prepare your guest for his trip tomorrow. You had planned to pack him an extensive bag of goods and trinkets to help him along the way—something for him to remember you by, at the least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even if it ripped you to shreds, the best thing you could do for Eren was let him go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were surprised when a single tear slid down from warm, (e/c) eyes, followed by another one, and another one. Soon, a steady stream of salty tears flowed its way down your cheek, releasing the sorrow you had held inside of you for all this time. You did not make a sound; you were never the type of person to cry over such a trivial matter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You cried when your friends died. You cried when you were in pain. You cried when you learned your foot was amputated and you’d never go beyond the walls again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But crying over Eren’s departure tomorrow? It wasn’t like you, but maybe it was because somehow you knew you’d never see him again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was different. You didn’t know what romantic love felt like, but this surely had to be infatuation more than anything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your eyes dripped with tears as you entered your bedroom for some privacy. Your walls, the walls that normally held you up and made you strong just...collapsed. Moment by moment, salty drops fall from your chin and drench your shirt. You pressed your head against the wall of your bedroom, trembling while you tried to stop the tears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But they wouldn’t stop. They </span>
  <em>
    <span>won’t stop. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Even as you pressed your hand against the wall, it shook, and everything was raw—raw tears, raw emotions. You couldn’t stop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why couldn’t you stop crying?</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hahaha sorry guys, thought it was the Scouts? Man I really wish that were the case, too! </p><p>This is my longest chapter yet! I usually try not to overwhelm my readers, but I wanted to group all of the scenes together and there were so many details I didn't want to leave out, agh! Gosh, there's so many things I wanna tell you guys that are about to happen, but I don't wanna ruin the fun! I know the pace of this chapter was a little sluggish, so I hope it will be a nice set up for the madness that's about the ensue.</p><p>Thank you for reading, you guys! Your support is truly what is getting me through my troubles of self-criticism. There are many times I find myself thinking "Wow, this chapter is poop. I can't post this, I suck." But then I go and read your comments and I remember that no matter what, I have y'all's support and that I can't let my perfectionism get the better of me! You guys really are the best, and I hope you all enjoy what I have planned for this story!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was a gray, slow morning for Eren, the early mist just beginning to clear when the sun bordered on the precipice of sight. Dew laden grass surrounded him, cobwebs thin and newly made overnight amongst his training posts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His legs propelled themselves forward skillfully to beat against the tree before him, his biceps tensed and fists curled in front of his face. Every movement was purposeful and perfectly synchronized, hips rotating open just the right amount for his quads to coil up before extending freely with immense force. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Combat training typically served as a prime distraction for Eren’s wandering thoughts, but today, nothing could help his absentmindedness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren suddenly paused his relentless barrage of kicks and lowered his fists to his sides—the woodland was ominously quiet. All that could be heard was the rustling of leaves in the gusty wind. Exactly how long had he been at this?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking up, there was no indication for the time of day, but from the way his body ached, he knew it had to be more than an hour.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was shortly transfixed by the myriad of fluttering leaves in the high branches of trees, creating a living roof above him. The more Eren stared, the more the blades looked like eyes. Steadily, the boughs drew closer, blocking the sunlight from his view like bars of a cage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>An uncomfortable sensation erupted in his stomach, but he chalked his distress up to be a simple illusion. Eren immediately lowered his head as an attempt to disrupt any tricks his tired eyes could play on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The brunette twisted and stretched, shoulders rolling back to help relax his rigid trapezius muscle. He lightly hopped back and forth and shifted his weight, wrists loose and twisting before his whole body suddenly flexed and became as taut as rope. With one foot planted solid in the ground, he continued his combat training, each kick with his right leg faster and more powerful than before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dead tree croaked in response, its sides morphed into two crescent-shaped dents from his daily kickboxing routine. Eren had been utilizing the trees behind the farmhouse to keep himself in shape over the last month. Fighting was what he knew best, afterall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He struck the tree over and over again, the length of his pants rustling and recoiling with each movement. There was a twinge of pain in his shin, a wound he was just beginning to grow accustomed to throughout the weeks, but he couldn’t help the way his features glowered darkly in turn. Harder and harder he kicked, each vicious movement fueled by his private rage and displeasure for the subtle reminder of his curse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Normally, his body would heal so fast, he never bruised or scarred from small bouts of trauma inflicted upon him. Now, he felt weak, and every kick made his vision swim from the searing throb of his legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His knuckles grew white from clenching his fists too hard, and his teeth gritted from the effort to remain silent. His hunched stance exuded an animosity that was like acid—burning, slicing, and potent. With one final shot, he released a growl of frustration before collapsing upon the ground, watching as the dead tree creaked with every push the wind gave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tch.” He observed the surface of his tan leg, the swelling already apparent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Old, yellow and brown leaves hustled in the corner of his vision. It was the end of autumn and the morning air was colder than an ice cube, climbing through his jacket to the bottom of his spine. The sight of every living thing coming to an end tortured him endlessly, as if nature were trying to hint at his own end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once more, his emerald gaze drifted upward to the looming boughs above, and his hardened eyes narrowed pensively. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When did he start caring so much about his life? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eight years ago, he discovered the truth behind the Curse of Ymir, and he was plagued with visions of his death. He’d been well-prepared for his end, and (until just recently) he even embraced his weakening state like an old friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So why was he so bothered by it now? He knew the future of humanity was safe. He had no other purpose in this life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After mastering the power of the Attack Titan, he held the capacity to not only influence the past, but he could see into the future by the will of his successors. Don’t get it wrong, he was not all-knowing—the inheritors of his titans withheld information from him for reasons beyond his knowledge. From his visions, he only knew two things for certain:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Firstly, his actions in this life created a sustainable future in which his friends and Paradis would survive and no longer suffer under the oppression of the world. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Secondly, his death was no longer predestined. The day he decided to come to Krolva, he no longer saw visions of being eaten by a titan, his ultimate demise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Much like he withheld knowledge from his father to manipulate his past and create a successful future, Eren assumed his successors were currently doing the same. Eren scoffed at that thought; he wasn’t even sure who his inheritors were at this point. Everything was up in the air, and now, all he could do was wait until the end of this month for an answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps it was his innate desire for survival that troubled him? No human wanted to die before he had the chance to fulfill his dreams.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Eren had already accomplished his dreams. He even killed countless others from collateral damage in the process. So why did he feel so incomplete? What more could he do? Did he even deserve to live? He’d seen everything the world had to offer him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then, within the deepest crevices of his mind—the place where he concealed most of his desires and unwanted memories—an image of golden eyes was offered up for debate, the child’s gurgles a sweet sound unblemished by the suffering of life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The baby’s tiny face glowed from a light within, her miniature fingers grasping his and held tight. Somehow, it felt like she knew he needed comfort, she knew he needed joy in the midst of his pain. He held the newborn to his chest tightly, and he found himself promising he would never let anything hurt that precious bundle so long as he lived.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren laid flat on his back, a single arm rising straight forward before falling to cover his face. One blue-green eye peered silently from behind his hand, his chocolate-colored hair a mess in the dirt and grass beneath his head. He focused all his attention on his breathing, chest rising and falling slowly with each deep respiration. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mind then wandered reluctantly to the one person he didn’t wish to think about, his scowl deepening further when he could hear the sound of your voice in his head, dulcet and pleasant. He imagined the shy look you often wore around him now, but it was never morose. Always behind those slightly pursed lips was a smile just waiting to be tempted out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He heard the softness of your voice call out his name once more, his eyebrows furrowing deeply. Great. Was he so enchanted by your voice, he would have to listen to it for the remainder of his days?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eren?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rose to a sitting position, legs crossed and one hand still covering the majority of his face. His chest thumped when a shadow beyond the trees suddenly took on the form of a woman, and he wondered how tired he must have been to assume the voice he was hearing was coming from his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A single emerald eye watched as you emerged, fully eclipsed by the shade of the old trees. Under his brief gaze, you did not withdraw or flinch, but neither did you step forward any closer to his seated form. There was a hesitation in your movements, unsure if it were okay for you to intrude upon his private space in the woods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed with relief. Eren had done well to keep you at bay these past three days. You were far too precious to involve in his affairs, and the further you distanced yourself, the better.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah...sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt anything.” Your eyes were pools of iridescent (e/c), sculpted upon a creamy face like dazzling jewels. Strands of molten (h/c) cascaded out of your scalp, tumbling down like a waterfall. Rosy lips, crystal white teeth; you truly were a beautiful sight to behold. “I just got back from down the road, so I figured I’d come and see if you were ready to go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren nodded his head in affirmation and wondered when he started seeing you in this light of infatuation. In the past, he never saw women as anything to pine over. He never felt the desire for companionship in his life beyond his friendships; there were just humans and titans, and no further need to distinguish in between. He didn’t see you as any different from the other members of the Survey Corps, just another human willing to sacrifice her life for the sake of freedom and humanity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He always thought Jean to be pig-headed when he was found drooling after any woman with dark hair willing to talk to him. His desperate nature disgusted Eren beyond reason, but he supposed the natural attraction between man and woman eventually caught up to him, because now, Eren was beginning to understand.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He remembered sitting with you during one of the first few days of his stay. You were knitting away at a jeweled cardigan while he tinkered with a broken mouse trap you just couldn’t seem to fix. The constant, comfortable silence uniting the two of you reminded him of what he observed between his parents as a child, and it was that evening all those nights ago when he began to wonder what it would be like to settle down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the last twenty-three years of his life, he always thought he was different. He wasn’t special, but the idea of living like cattle within the walls, just waiting for death to come, was repulsive to him. He always associated settling down as a sign of submission to his oppressors, and Eren was born a fighter—he was not meant to </span>
  <em>
    <span>submit.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>But now that he lived free and his life fell at a stand-still, he wondered if even </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>could find love, much like his father did all those years ago. It was simply a thought he enjoyed toying with, although he knew it would never happen. With only a month to live, the only person he would be united with anytime soon was Death.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>However, that never stopped his imagination.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren at no time thought he had any riveting qualities that could interest a woman. He couldn’t be charismatic around women like Jean, or make them laugh like Connie could. Even Armin knew how to turn a few heads with his wits and superior intellect. Eren had no idea what it meant to be a good lover, and he sure as hell didn’t know how to flirt. All he really knew was how to fight and scream and despise and suffer—his usual attributes that left him sitting alone as he unknowingly chased away any woman who dared to approach him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then you came along within the final months of his hate-filled life, and he was baffled beyond all logic how he got you to see him as anything more than a former comrade. He figured it was simply the tortures of your kind nature, forcing you to look beyond his gruff exterior and recognize him as a man. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>However, your compassion was the bridge. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It just took time for him to trust his weight to it. You extended your hand and stayed while he slowly revealed his scars, his mess of a life. You let him come close, let him leave, let him return without shame. Every time he thought you’d had enough, there was only patience he never felt he’d earned. You were far more benevolent to him than he—a vengeful and plain man—ever deserved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He figured the best he could do for you was to be reliable. He fixed up your property in hopes the physical actions could somehow repay all the little things you did for his soul. He promised to leave in three days, and you knew him by now; his word always meant something. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But there was a reason he stuck around for so long with you, and it was now he truly came to terms with himself. Whatever desire he had for a loving relationship he once saw his parents share as a child, he knew subconsciously he would find it with you. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Eren remembered now the answer as to why he cared for his life so much these days, why he wanted to live beyond the Curse of Ymir.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted to live for you. He wanted more time with (y/n) (l/n). To navigate who you truly were as a person, to learn more about your childhood, to discover more of your flaws and see how they influenced your actions. He might even say he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his life doing exactly those things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>However, with the military crawling on his back, scouring the island for him, he couldn’t take that chance. He liked to imagine if he lived in an alternate universe, one where the titans never existed and the world was peaceful toward Paradis, he would spend the rest of his days fixing as many barn doors you asked of him, especially if it meant he could continue living in bliss, embraced in your warmhearted essence. Nothing would make him more content.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren stood from his place on the ground, patting his clothes clean from the dirt of the forest.  Today was his official day of departure, and you insisted that he didn’t leave without a proper goodbye on your part. He had no idea what a ‘proper goodbye’ meant, but he liked to imagine it was something that would stay true to your identity. It wouldn’t be anything extravagant, no, but something that was practical and good-natured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Falling leaves tumbled from the interlocking branches above, branches that grew so thickly only bright gaps of sunshine broke through. As autumn marched toward winter, there would be only those fine strands of brown in the distance and the sunlight would fall to the forest floor unhindered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren was jolted away from his thoughts when he suddenly realized you were speaking to him. He listened quietly to your words and appreciated how before each sentence, you paused, head tilted to one side just a smidgen, and then you would deliver an articulate statement. Your gaze surveyed his indifferent expression, humor dancing kindly in those eyes:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I always wondered what you were doing out here, but I never expected to find you on your butt in a losing fight to my trees,” your laugh echoed amongst the trunks, dancing bewitchingly like a spell. Before Eren could restrain himself, the corner of his lip twitched upward at your joke. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Don’t,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought to himself, allowing his features to fall impassively. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The last thing he wanted was to grow close to you, only to have to leave you behind because he had no future. His presence would exclusively serve to hurt you, but of course, he usually found that his selfish nature overpowered his rationale. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Damn… He really was a total idiot. If only he had left weeks ago, he never would have found himself in this situation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He followed you out of the woodlands and walked just a step behind, sure to keep a respectful distance. His emerald gaze wandered to address his environment, partially concentrating as you chattered on about things you felt were important to remember when he traveled. Eren enjoyed listening to the tidbits of conversation you shared, intrigued by your attention to detail, although he took extra care to make sure it didn’t look like it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You tilted your head back to peer at him, skin a honeyed glow and eyes thoughtful. “I wish I knew you were using my trees as punching bags. We keep an old case of expired flour in the shed specifically for things like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren raised an eyebrow but kept his thoughts to himself. He’d seen those cloth-woven bags of flour before, yet he never thought much of their presence in your shed. Studying your shorter form, he tried to remember if you were an exceptional hand-to-hand combat fighter in your trainee days but couldn’t recollect much—they were eleven-year-old memories, afterall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As if you could sense his questioning, you continued with an explanation behind the expired flour sacks: </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When my dad found out I was joining the Training Corps, he was a little upset his only child was leaving him. He tried to talk me out of it for a while.” Your lips pursed themselves for a moment at the memory, hands clutching the off-white apron knotted tightly at your waist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren could feel himself nodding in agreement. He was all too familiar with how overbearing and fretful a parent could be at times, and although he never understood until he grew older, he knew their worry was well within reason. There was a hint of regret in your features, another feeling he completely understood. He could tell you missed your father dearly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You sighed deeply as if to chase away your sorrow. “He really was a good dad. I guess one day, he realized his daughter was growing up, so he went out and spent a quarter of our savings on those flour bags. He told me if I was going to join the military, I would ‘need to start bulking up,’ and there wasn’t much conversation about it after that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren’s gaze wandered ahead when the two of you emerged from the trees, the farmhouse sitting sturdily against the wind. A halo of light emitted from the windows and invited him closer, his home for the last month. It promised warmth from the chill of autumn, and he could feel his pace quickening to walk side-by-side with you now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The outside was painted a copper red and the roof was cedar shingle. Truth be told, it was also rotting a little and mice roamed freely in and out through the holes. The chimney had been built too large and it let the rain in and the heat out. From the windows came drafts and you lived in fear of a leaky roof every time a storm hit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nevertheless, it served its purpose well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But if given the chance, he would rebuild the whole thing for you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking away, a more lovely sight awaited him to his left, his gaze trailing downward to take in your tightly bundled form, well-protected from the cold with a thick chestnut jacket and periwinkle scarf to match your plain dress. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were still talking, explaining how you used those sacks everyday until you left for training. He watched as your lips tilted upward light-heartedly, secret memories playing themselves in your vision:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“—Anyways, the point is those bags don’t really get much use nowadays. But they probably would’ve been a little more forgiving to punch away at than my trees,” your (e/c) eyes shone like twin moons in the light of the farmhouse before you turned to grip at the railing of the steps. Eren watched as you slowly climbed the steps one-by-one, your gait a little clumsy and stiff from the wooden prosthetic hidden beneath the cloth of your boots. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He appreciated how you still kept your shoulders pinned back with conviction, but it did little to hide the embarrassment written on your face for moving so slowly. Eren couldn’t understand why you always grew so self-conscious over your capability to walk, no matter how big or little the display was. It was no problem for him to adjust his stride, so why did you look so uncomfortable? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He noticed throughout the last few weeks that (like most women he knew) you were highly aware of yourself, constantly adjusting your clothes and brushing back your hair with timid movements. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were modest and bashful at times, and he especially noticed it when you felt like you were being a nuisance to others. You weren’t overly concerned with appearances, but you did have a great deal of pride when it came to self-sufficiency. It was one of the flaws Eren had noticed about you, one that irritated him, but after a while, he noticed your demeanor was beginning to change around him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could see it in the way you kept your shoulders pulled back, you were no longer as self-conscious about your physical prowess since the day he first appeared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And this fascinated him, as if maybe he were the cause for your growing confidence… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Averting his attention when you turned to see if he was following, a sudden wave of desire to comfort your awkwardness rushed through him. His next words came out in a low tone:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay. I prefer the trees, actually.” He watched as your eyes lit up like stars, something they always seemed to do whenever Eren spoke, and it made him stand a little straighter with satisfaction. It shocked him how you always gave the impression of being taken by his words, like they were always a treat for you to hear. Eren never thought he had much of anything interesting to say, but for some odd reason, you loved it whenever he spoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thought made his chest rise substantially. Seeing you happy always made his mind soar with content.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? And why is that?” The two of you entered the farmhouse, and Eren immediately spotted the immense pile of dishes in your wash bin. His mouth watered when the smell of cooked ham wafted over his nose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Trees are more sturdy,” was all he said, distracted by the padded, large pack resting on your dining table. Since the day before, you had been working tirelessly on preparing a travel bag for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With hands stuffed nonchalantly in his pockets, he leaned over the table to peer into the open bag, spotting packs of dried jerky and bowls containing different, unidentifiable soups. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His dark hair, which he neglected to pull back today, hung like a curtain over his features, your facial expressions indistinguishable to him. He soon straightened himself to his full height, still as a statue and rendered speechless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now that meat was more widely available, it was no longer difficult to obtain nor considered a delicacy. One would have to cough up a decent chunk of money for it, however, which made his lips turn downward in response. He couldn’t accept the dried jerky. If he had any respect for you and your family, he would not take on the gesture.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You appeared to catch on to his displeasure, automatically stepping forward to the backpack you had spent fixing up for him the night before. He noticed your hands would clasp and unclasp each other, finally zipping up the bag’s contents before he could search further.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s enough to last you three days. There’s some clothes, water, food, and a couple more things to keep you going until you can reach the next town,” there was never-ending compassion in your smile, a gentleness. “I’m sorry, I know it’s not much…”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Not much?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>The grunt of disapproval for wasting your time on him halted in Eren’s throat when he caught sight of your form. He watched you like you carried the stars in your hands and stood amongst soft petals at your feet. To him, you looked more fragile than glass, as if your petite limbs would snap if he or someone grabbed you a little too hard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But nothing about your strong, warm-hearted expression gave off the impression of frailty. He had forgotten for a moment—your dainty form was a terrible lie to anyone who did not know you and assumed vulnerability. You were emotionally powerful. Tough. Any complaint he had for your benevolence would prove itself futile, so instead, he settled for a curt “thank you” before accepting the bag from your arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If it were anyone else, he would’ve complained and forced them to keep the dried meat for themselves. That natural hardened defiance of his had been replaced with a soft spot—he couldn’t help but do anything in order to make you happy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren felt his scowl deepen ever-so slightly at that thought. It was truly for the best he left today. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’d be safer that way.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>It was time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You made sure to keep yourself from looking at Eren, almost like a child too stubborn to accept his departure soon to come. With fingers entwined below your waist, you walked and watched as he casted his extensive, emerald gaze into the dusty earthen floor, persuading you to do the same and study the ground of your walkway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The leaves were scattered along, no intention of carpeting the ground, but they do. You were sure if given the choice, they would still be green and supple. But in their many colors, they were a wonder, and in a month, they would be blown and so much part of the soil that no one would bother to look down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the edge of your property line appeared, you arrived at your destination: the main road that would guide him out of Blackstone Valley and toward Krolva. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I guess this is it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sense of déjà vu overcame you—just yesterday you were saying goodbye to the Fairfax family in this very spot. The atmosphere was light then, but this farewell was far more solemn and final.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This was it.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>You remained steady in your position, watching as Eren gave no indication of any emotion besides impassiveness. His eyebrows were set in their neutral position with lips curled downward ever-so slightly. Tension loomed heavily in the air, waiting to see who would be the first to take action. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren resembled both young and old at the same time—deep green eyes, filled with obvious pain and hidden trauma, glistened in the tiny haze of shine that came from the sun behind his back. In the morning light, he looked like the shadow of the person he had become. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Studying his form, you saw how with his backpack, he stood taller with a straightened back, and his head rose a little higher, his height now looming over your own cautiously. The backpack you provided him had seen better days, frayed around the piping. The broad shoulder straps were functional to a basic degree, no advanced padding for long treks, but they felt quite natural even with the weight added. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You thought he might be disappointed when he first saw the small bag, but Eren only showed gratitude. If anything, you supposed he might toss the dried meat out when you weren’t looking; he didn’t seem too pleased about your splurge, but you figured something like that might happen:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dried jerky was honestly a decoy. Eren, afterall, didn’t need to know about the hamburgers and sliced goat cheese you hid beneath his clothes at the bottom of the pack. Those were surely the most expensive items, but they were his favorites, so you didn’t mind the sacrifice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think you’ll be warm enough?” you asked when your eyes studied his clothing, feeling awkward and dodgy when you didn’t know what else to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be fine,” he answered curtly. He wore the shirt he came with on that first day, his olive green long-sleeve with string tassels at the collar, but all other clothes he borrowed to add to his layers were from your father. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rolled his emerald eyes when you raised an eyebrow in response to his dismissive behavior and folded your arms along your chest. “My titan makes my temperature run higher than normal. There’s nothing to worry about, I promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You laughed to show you weren’t being serious. “Okay, okay! So long as I don’t find you crawling back here later with frostbite, that’s all that matters.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren found himself admiring your smile, one of the prettiest things he’d seen in awhile, for it extended to your eyes and deep into your soul. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Eren were none the wiser, he would think you weren’t all that shaken up by his departure, standing firmly in your place to face him directly, his body naturally mimicking your movements.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Damn it. Now he was looking again, admiring and mildly bothered by his weak will. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a rose-colored tint to your cheeks, large (e/c) eyes lively, warm, and sparkling with bliss when you smiled in his direction. Normally when you were sorrowful, your eyes seemed to grow dim and dark, but you only emitted content today.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He thought back to how he tried to ice over your memory, to get you to hate him, anything to stop him from growing too attached. He tried to tell himself you never meant that much, or that overtime, he would forget. The truth was that you were still in his soul, all those times you laughed, smiled, were irreverent and silly. You were the only person willing to look him in the eye these days, and he wondered what he as a true devil of this world ever did to deserve such love from an angel in his last few months of life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.” His voice resounded like thunder. “For everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leaving you killed his soul as sure as a dagger could stop a beating heart. It wasn’t easy to leave even when it was the only option available. But was this really the best he could do? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Thank you for everything?</span>
  </em>
  <span> How badly he wanted to tell you how much he would miss you. How much he wished he could stay and protect you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What you did for him was nothing short of supernatural, and it came from your focus. You rarely cried, but that was because you normally mourned in a different way. Your tears become your actions, your problem solving. The way you channeled your love into helping in that wonderfully obsessive way of yours. If Eren told you he had a problem, either in words or in body language, you were on a level of discomfort until you could solve it for him, even when the benefit was solely his.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren thought of his mother and how she would do the same for him, and he wondered if this bond was real love. You’d protect anyone, help anyone, because that big heart of yours could hear the hearts of everyone—not the mask or self deception, but the real self—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had to stop himself there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could not stay and figure out whether or not it was love. The time had come to return his titans, for he was growing weaker and weaker by the day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unbeknownst to him, you thought those four words of his truly encapsulated who he was as a person—they were the most “Eren-like” thing he could say. He did not disappoint, and you found your heart clenching at the weight behind it all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You laughed happily at his statement, pleased to hear that he appreciated all you had done. “I actually should be thanking you. You bailed me out a great deal, I don’t think you really know how helpful you’ve been.” Your eyes spoke of a hidden message that left him marveling and even further charmed by your mystery.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was true, Eren did not only repair and install new structures on practically half of your property; he reignited your childhood dream to see the world beyond the walls. Just this morning, you had convinced Mr. Goodish and Marcus to accept a year’s worth of pay to take care of your property, and in two days' time, you would begin your journey by traveling southwest via train for the ocean. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No longer would you be shackled down by poor excuses and self-doubt. This was your destiny, one that was forgotten the day you returned home crippled mentally and physically by war eight years ago. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was all you could take from your relationship with Eren. Before, you took your bond for granted, and in your naivety, you’d thought it unbreakable. Yet here it was before you, shattered into fragments more numerous than the stars. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You wanted to beg, plead, get down on your knees and tell him that his life here had meaning, and you wouldn’t mind journeying the countryside with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the minute you saw him in the woods today, you knew that face, the one he started to wear three days ago when he shut himself off from you, when his ears were closed and his mind had placed barriers to all new information. A small feeling in your chest told you he wouldn’t mind your prospect, and this behavior of his was all an act. This departure tore him up inside just as much as it did you.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I don’t think he’s going anywhere soon, my love.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>The memory of Terra played itself on repeat like a record. You didn’t like how cocky it sounded in your head, but the old woman was right. Eren liked you, just as much as you liked him. There was one thing stopping him from spending the rest of his days with you, and you had an inkling as to what that might be…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just thinking about it nearly had you crying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You wouldn’t bring it up to him now, but the letter you stuffed in his backpack would address him later, you figured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So instead of giving in to your desires, your body’s wish to just collapse upon the ground and ask that he spend what little time he had left with you, you stepped closer with a mask of contentment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And extended a hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren stared, clearly surprised when you offered him your hand to be shaken. As expected, your ‘proper goodbye’ was not a grand gesture. He noted its meager size, the crevasses deep and worn from years of hard work. Your palm was miniature compared to his when he reached forward to grasp it, calluses formed on the tips from knitting. It was then he noticed that you really hadn’t grown much from your days in the Scouts, just fuller and softer than before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Time slowed once more, as if Eren’s brain needed a photograph, a keepsake to give him strength in the rough times to come. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was pitiful, really. Certain that his purposeful cold shoulder had finally apprehended you, he hoped this handshake was a sign you no longer favored him. It would only make this easier on the both of you if you hated him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But what was with that damn smile on your face?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That damn smile which always left him flustered and confused. What the hell was that about? Why did it make him want to question everything?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I think you mean there’s plenty of reasons to frown, there’s a difference…But they only work if I let those reasons keep me from enjoying the good in my life.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>You released his hand, his fingers idly latching on a little longer, but you failed to notice for you were distracted by the abrupt hugeness of his bottle green eyes, a reflection of the old Eren so passionate and child-like and a complete contrast to the rest of his closely guarded features.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodbye, Eren,” your voice was robust and lovely. You wanted this to be your final image of Eren, handsome with a readable expression. Albeit, it was a serious expression, but it wasn’t unkind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Turning on your heel, you supposed your focus was to walk away without feeling like you had lost a part of you. You moved with your normal gait, your left leg with the fluidity of youth but the other was jagged like you couldn’t control it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All those days where you would spend your time with Eren just talking and laughing and doing things normal people would do—you wished you could go back to when you first met him so you could do it all over again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You liked to think you wouldn’t change a single thing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe you would have fought a little harder, but in the end, nothing could influence the inevitability of his life—.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, you felt a hand clasp on your shoulder, fingers gripped tightly around the fabric of your shirt. Your half-lidded gaze flew open in surprise, and you shifted quickly with the help of his tugging. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked just as surprised as you were with his lips parted and breath escaping in short pants. As if he had no control over his body, his pensive look suddenly melted into a tiny smile as soft as the morning light. He didn't let go. “Eren?” your voice was barely above a whisper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck it,” he muttered and slowly his hands fall to entrap your waist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His emerald eyes watched your face carefully for any reaction before he fully wrapped his arms around you, tightening and squeezing with a desperation you never thought he could show. In one of the most powerful hugs you had ever experienced in your life, your body squirmed just a little before your muscles relaxed after the initial shock, the smell of wood smoke invading your nostrils.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your elbows formed a crooked ‘Y’ resting on his broad shoulders, your brain swimming heavily in a hazy fog as you tried to process what was happening. Eren was hunched over, one arm wrapped tightly around your hips and the other splayed over the length of your back. He was waiting for you to do something, </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>, his breath coming in soft puffs against your ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You could feel your stomach flutter at the feeling of your body pressed against his, and slowly, you sink into the warmth, your elbows retreating back so your hands could rest lightly on his broad shoulders. Everything felt foreign, but you greatly appreciated the way his grip grew even stronger on your coat when he recognized your acceptance. His embrace was warm, and you felt well-protected by how strong his arms were around your frail body. The world around you melted away as you squeezed him back, and you finally let one of your hands rest on the back of his soft, brown hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hug was stronger than anything you had ever known, as if holding you wasn’t quite enough, he had to feel every inch of you press into every inch that was him. In that moment, you were awake somehow, more alive then you had been in so very long. There was no static this time, but the moment reminded you of how you felt the day you nearly kissed him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But with this hug, any thoughts of his indifference toward you these last few days being false were confirmed. Eren was not leaving by his own will but only because he needed to protect you. This single hug also told you this would be the last time you would ever see him, your final and only good-bye. There would be no next time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which was why neither of you let go for the next minute, all of your emotions and thoughts being shared just through the contact of your bodies. So much was left unsaid, but you were fine with that. You hoped with every pat of his head, he could tell how proud you were of him. With every nuzzle of your face against his long hair, you wished he understood how thankful you truly were for him to share what little time he had left with you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Exploring every crevasse he could find, Eren gripped you tightly with each readjustment of his arms, inhaling your scent as much as he could in these final moments with you. There was nothing he wanted more than to satisfy his greed. When he had forgotten how to live, you were the one who showed him the way. When it felt like the world was falling apart around him, you made him feel as though it wasn’t so bad. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had this feeling in his chest where it just felt empty the moment you turned his back on him, like a black hole, void and barren. His body moved on its own, and for once, he allowed his instincts to take control.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He clung to your small form desperately, for your arms were safe and chased away the feeling of vacancy as soon as it appeared. The skin of your neck and shoulder was soft against his cheek, a gentle squeeze sending shock waves as he bathed in your warmth and the smell of freshly laundered clothes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You never complained when he seemed to squeeze a little too tightly, patiently caressing his hair with each passing second. As much as his reasonable side wanted you to forget about him, something deep within begged that you would at least hold onto the essence of this embrace for the remainder of your life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He indulged himself in your touch, eventually pulling away to stare quietly at the toes of his boots. For the first time in many years, you watched as heat filled Eren’s cheeks, turning them just the faintest of pinks along his sun-kissed skin. His lips were curved downward in an embarrassed frown, betraying his normally stoic features.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His bottle-green eyes looked blue when he finally gathered the courage to gaze directly upon you, eyelashes long and draped dangerously in a half-lidded gaze. In retrospect, you couldn’t decide if you preferred your final image of Eren to be his smile before he embraced you or his reddened face just now. Both made your heart flutter with happiness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mouth opened slightly to utter, “goodbye, (y/n).” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he was on his way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those were his words to you, final and firm. He began his journey down the road, sauntering in the direction of the sun rise with hands stuffed in his pockets. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Originally, you had no plan to watch Eren disappear beyond the horizon, but there was something strangely optimistic about seeing him set off in the direction of the sun. The sun once again took its rightful place on the horizon, and the day was slowly beginning to warm little-by-little as it casted its rays onto the world. Eren was enveloped in its brightness, and you watched with fulfillment as he moved on to conquer the greater challenges before him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There truly was something serene about watching him—maybe because of his final embrace? No stones were left unturned with that hug as he wordlessly shared his true feelings, so even in departure, you couldn’t help feeling complacent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe one day, you will see him again. Probably not in this life, but another.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey guys! I want you to know: THIS IS NOT THE END OF EREN!</p><p>I know I say this every chapter, but for realsies this time, things are about to get crazy! And Eren will be back, and Titan Eren will make an appearance because let's be real: He will do anything to keep you safe.</p><p>I hope you all are enjoying the story! I love Eren monologues dearly, they're so beautiful T.T Eren hugs are the best hugs, and next time you see him, definitely expect an emotional reunion! I love talking with you guys in the comments about your thoughts on the direction of the story, so please don't be afraid to spark up a discussion! Hahaha I'll see y'all next week!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dark. Empty. Cold. The room stood on its own at the end of the noiseless corridor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The jail cell was the least of your concerns. Its gray walls would not hit you or whisper in your ears of the beating it planned to give you. As of right now, it was the safest place you could be—better than the torture chamber the captain had set up exclusively for you the floor above. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You sat with legs curled against your chest in a poor attempt to retain heat. Your muddied, torn nightgown did little to protect you from the morning chill, shivers racking your body in waves and your teeth clacking together so hard, you were sure they had gone blunt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were no mirrors to reflect the damage that had been done to your face, but the great purple welts along your abdomen and arms were enough to hint as to what your head might look like. Against your ghostly skin, the contusions were grotesque, but you were lucky to not suffer any broken bones. They wouldn’t be able to transport you if you were too weak to walk, afterall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were sure you looked as beat up as you did in your later days of training, sparring with boys two heads taller and over twice your mass. The main difference was now you were given no chance to fight back. Tied by a single rope around the wrists to a post along the ceiling, you were stretched on your tiptoes in a game to test your physical and mental strength by methods of attrition. Hours were dedicated to interrogating you for any and all information you knew, but the questions were obscure and difficult to understand. Even worse, you were beaten when they assumed you to be lying, which usually transpired about 90% of the time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your dim gaze studied your cell, trying to focus on anything but the tender rope burns around your wrists, red and irritated. You wondered when the Garrison of Blackstone had ever secured the funds to build a jailhouse. The cell was just a box for a human. There was nothing other than a stone-hard bed and bucket you didn’t have the will power to crawl and utilize. Instead you sat against the wall closest to the outside world, spending most hours staring straight up through a foot-wide square hole with iron bars too thick to break. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The walls beside you were crumbling. If you took the edge of your nail, you could dig at the softening mortar between the distressed bricks. It was the dampness that did it, you thought. No matter the weather outside, the floor was always wet in there. You remembered the jailhouse was located beside a river bed which soaked the mud you slept on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You prayed constantly for this tiny cube of brick to decay faster, for someone to send a storm to knock it down. There was no way you could get out without the help of another person. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sadness sat an inch below your face, eyes remained dry, expression vacant. You knew that if you even let a fraction out that the rest will follow, a never-ending torrent of grief. All you did from sun up to sun down was sit with your forehead against the wall until they were ready to drag you upstairs for more interrogation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You gripped tightly at the caps of your knees, unsure of who to blame for this whole fiasco. In reality, you were the only one to fault, but sometimes it was easier for you to direct your resentment to the men and women subjecting you to this torture, although they only did it under orders from their superiors.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A shaky breath fell past your lips: this was no time for self-pity. You needed to establish a plan for escape and settle your frazzled mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were few thoughts that brought you comfort these last two days. You tried to think of your childhood home, a technique you used when you were away on expeditions. That farmhouse was your safe place, weathered for countless years by harsh elements and baked by the hot summer sun. The wood itself cracked, warped, and twisted by a shrinking grain here and there, and it wore the stains at predictable intervals of rusty nails that held fast. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That old relic of a farmhouse once spoke volumes about hardships and hope, strength and vulnerability—a rich history, determined present, and a hopeful future. Although no one would ever describe that old house as magnificent, its rugged frontier charm somehow harmonized with the breathtaking scenery around it. It carried the memories of your family, your friends, and Eren.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But now it was gone. The house, your home, had been reduced to nothing but ashes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You could feel your lip begin to tremble as you remembered how intense the heat was, scorching your skin when you tried to go back to save as much as you could. It was more like a colossal campfire than anything else, casting its yellow glow into the night. The smell dominated every breath and the flames were louder than you expected, roaring as they consumed what was left of your mother and father’s legacy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How...How did it all come to this?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your ribs burned with a sharp pain when you suddenly fell into a coughing fit. How cruel the world seemed at this moment. If it weren't for these recent events, you would have been riding toward the southwest to meet up with one of the train stations, yet everything you owned was lit up in flame. No clothes, no money, no food… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>An image of your extremely pregnant mother laughing on her knitting chair filtered through your thoughts. It was one of the few memories you had left of her, and now that her chair dusted the earth with cinders, it worried you to think the loss of that constant reminder would make you forget about her—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, fluorescent lights flickered in the direction of the stairway, and you could feel your heart rate quicken. Footsteps clunked heavily along the stone, your face gleaming with outrage. Was it already time for more questioning? What sort of interrogation tactics did they have for you today? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It felt like there would be no end to this torture.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <b>34 Hours Earlier</b>
  <strong>—</strong>
  <b>The Night of Eren Yeager’s Departure from Blackstone Valley</b>
</p><p>
  <span>The blinds of your bedroom window shut out most of the moon’s luminescence, rectangles of natural white light projecting from the gaps, still on the opposite wall. Pulling up your feather duvet, you rolled toward the darker side of the room, your head flopping dramatically once you fluffed your pillow for what felt like the umpteenth time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A lingering haze of sleep sat somewhere at the back of your mind but was too far away to reach, floating in the pool of your memories. It was another sleepless night, one of those that left you begging for someone to come around and knock you out with some medicine. You only wished to drift away into a simple sleep, no dreams, no nightmares, just </span>
  <em>
    <span>sleep.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>But your wide eyes were the entrance to a tunnel. You kept on staring at the bare ceiling, wondering if anyone else was experiencing the same insomnia. Maybe someone specific, but you couldn’t pull yourself to admit it...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah!” In a fit of frustration, you chased away thoughts of Eren and uncaringly tossed your blankets to the side. They tangled in a massive heap to your left but that was the least of your worries. You began the process of reapplying your compression sleeve, sliding the fabric over your amputated leg before grasping for the old and worn wooden crutch beside your nightstand. Where you were going wasn’t far, so there was no need to struggle with your prosthetic foot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hobbling to the kitchen, you heated a cup of milk on the stove top, adding a pinch of cinnamon to it. Once finished, you expertly maneuvered yourself out to the backyard patio, lit the lights on the porch, and sat down. It was one of those quiet and pleasant nights when you could hear nature’s symphony, the crickets and frogs chirping away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You snorted at the thought of how much Eren hated those sounds, claiming to have grown up in a crowded city with no room for animal life. He once explained he would rather fall asleep to the sound of thumping from his neighbors or his father snoring than listen to those “noisy-ass beasts,” or so he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A tiny frown fell on your lips then. Although Eren wasn’t much of a talker, your house felt strangely empty without his usual brooding presence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silently, your gaze took to the sky in search of the stars, finding a constellation or two but nothing that satisfied your desires. What you really wanted was for Eren’s image to pop up just one more time, a source of comfort that would certainly put you to rest in no time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a deep yawn, you finished the last few drops of the creamy, frothy liquid, and slipped your left foot into its fluffy carpet slipper, crutch snug beneath your armpit. You left the cup at the counter and hobbled back to bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your insomnia hadn’t worn off yet, so you tossed and turned relentlessly beneath the covers, growing frustrated when your loose nightgown knotted itself uncomfortably around your waist. What else was there to do an hour past midnight? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were awake for too long in the dark—for two hours, thinking and not thinking, in that barren state which was not sleep, nor full wakefulness, and which was a painful strain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then something strange caught your eye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The once beautiful white color of the moon shading your walls in gaps was replaced with something yellow and artificial. You stopped breathing, squinting while you waited for your eyes to quit playing tricks on you, but the light remained steadfast. The room was dead silent, not a single frog singing, as if they knew someone was nearby. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You remained as stiff as a board, not even bothering to brush your bangs from your face when they fell to shield part of your vision. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I swear, I’m going crazy,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>you mused in an effort to calm your nerves. Why were you so paranoid? It was nothing more than a trick of the light.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the inkiness, your troublesome mind supplied visions of demons real and fictitious, but you were far too rational for something like that. You liked to think everyone was a little crazy, especially when they were sleep-deprived.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it was when the light disappeared totally, replaced by complete darkness, you leaped from your bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your vision swam and grew dark at the corners from the sudden change of position—other than the sound of titan footfalls or a gunshot, there was nothing that got your attention sooner or made your heart accelerate faster than the thought of being watched. You blinked to chase away the darkness, turning slowly to observe why the moon had gone dark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You expected nothing but a cloud, yet surely enough, you found a boy’s face pushed against the window and staring blankly through the gaps of your blinds, eyes wide and horrific. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frightened by his expression, you took a sudden intake of breath and stumbled backward, jamming your heel into the dresser behind you. Your shoulders shook and mouth hung open, not a single noise emerged. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t until you took another look, he was gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blood gushed through your ears, and for a few moments, you stood stunned and blinking at the window above your bed frame. How long had he been standing there for? Was he ever there in the first place? Were you seeing things?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You immediately set about applying your wooden foot, your drowsiness no longer present and replaced with crippling anxiety. Making your way over to the door of your bedroom, you huddled tightly against the corner and stared unwavering at the window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You waited and waited. There was nothing. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Thump. Thump. Thump. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of rough footsteps.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>BOOM!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>You practically jumped out of your skin at the sound of a boot busting your front door open, and you rose into a crouched position, arms spread defensively around your form. No greetings, no voices, just verbal silence as boots marched around your living room. Your mouth went dry and your brain scrambled for any rational reason as to why someone was in your farmhouse at 2:00 AM. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Busting down your front door… Watching you sleep from your bedroom window at an ungodly hour of the night... Whoever was here did not come to make friends.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll get the first bedroom. Take care of the second,” a feminine voice ordered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, the room became intensely hot when adrenaline and fear rushed to overcome all thought processes. Oh god, what were you going to do?? Everything moved in slow motion, your pupils blown and natural instinct kicking in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But wow, how slow you had become. The years of training you partook in hazily crept into the forefront of your mind, but your shock lessened your ability to assess the situation. </span>
  <span>This only made you breathe a little faster, leaving you light-headed and frazzled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You could see the shadow of boots creep beneath the crack of your door, and it was then it clicked in your head you would have to fight your captors off if they tried to hurt you. However, despite years of experience in combat training, you were rusty. Once given an honorable discharge from the Survey Corps, there was no need for you to keep up with your sparring exercise—eight years since your last action, and you only remembered the basics!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All the reasons not to do this come flooding in, and you felt the soft panic that could grow or fade depending on what you did next. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If you back away and hide, it will fade, but you would have to suffer the potential consequences of giving in too earlier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your panic will grow if you let those thoughts swirl into a vortex of stupidity, eating their own tail when you take too long to respond.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or you could breathe real slow, let the thoughts leak into the ether and be the </span>
  <em>
    <span>real </span>
  </em>
  <span>boss of you. You liked this final option more. Pressing your palm against your chest, you attempted to relax in the face of fear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If these people (how many were there exactly?) were here for your valuables, perhaps you could make a deal to let them have whatever they wanted so long as they left you unharmed. But you would have to keep them out of your bedroom and away from you; it was the only way to ensure your safety.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The knob on your door was slowly beginning to turn. There was no time left to think. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have a gun! Open the door and I’ll shoot!” Your voice was unbearably shaky and high-pitched, horror seething from every word. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The knob hesitated, and you could hear the burglars mumbling lowly beneath their breaths. The anticipation you felt was a nervous kind of energy. It tingled through you like sparks on the way to the ground, gathering in your toes. You were desperate for anything, an escape even…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An escape.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your wide-eyed gaze flew to the window above your bed. No one was there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please! If you came to rob me, just take whatever you want. I only ask that you stay </span>
  <em>
    <span>out of this room</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” You called out, sounding a little more confident now that you had a plan in motion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You tiptoed as quietly as you could, wincing when your shakiness made you clump like a stiff log. The voices outside your door suddenly paused, and your hands shook with complete lack of control as you climbed up onto your bed. Did they catch on to your lie?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you have a gun,” the woman’s voice answered in a dangerous tone, no intent of offering a peaceful solution, “then fire a warning shot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“A warning shot?”  </span>
  </em>
  <span>You deliberated shortly...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was then you registered they weren’t here to take your belongings. They were here for </span>
  <em>
    <span>you. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no plausible reason for her to ask you to prove if you had a gun—a burglar would have accepted the terms and left as soon as she collected a few things of value. The male you saw in your bedroom window wore no mask or bandana to hide his identity, another red flag. These people didn’t care if you saw their faces or not, because you were <em>not</em> meant to escape. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your (e/c) eyes were like saucers now with a fear you had not felt in quite some time. Were they human traffickers? No...this was far too sophisticated of an operation, and you were hardly anything desirable with your older age and missing foot. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Is it the Garrison?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>A tiny voice spoke in the back of your mind, and Eren’s handsome visage emerged. Could it be the military looking for information on Eren? But if that were the case, they wouldn’t have appeared in the middle of the night, and they would have announced their title as law enforcement before breaking in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Who in the world was it then??</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not wasting any shells on warnings. Come inside and I </span>
  <em>
    <span>will </span>
  </em>
  <span>shoot.” You graveled out harshly, unsure of what else to say. Were you in trouble for something? Why won’t they just tell you what they’re here for? Was it really human trafficking?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You ultimately decided to stick with your original plan. Whatever their reasoning, you did not care, so long as they were here to hurt you. This would be your best chance for escape.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Balancing as well as you could on the creaky, spring mattress, you propped the window open and finally poked your head out the bottom to search your house and the gray outline of your barn—no one was nearby.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s lying, I didn’t see one in the room when I checked. Guns are illegal amongst citizens.” You could hear an impatient voice groan with frustration. Was he the one watching you through your window?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We don’t know that yet, Cadet. She’s a former Scout, we can’t take her lightly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You began to twist yourself rather ungracefully, abandoning your crutch and all your belongings in the process. You grunted and squeezed yourself through the propped window, wishing shortly it was a sliding glass like the ones in your living room. Although that last statement you heard was loaded with evidence of their identities, none of their words were appropriately recorded in your mind. You were far too engrossed in escaping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We don’t want to hurt you, Miss. Please don’t shoot, we just want to talk!”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Right, they don’t WANT to hurt me, but they will when given the chance,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>you contemplated and let out a small huff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You had to work with what you had and sucked in your gut, struggling dearly when your hips caught themselves on the wedge. Your legs kicked desperately, trying to find any sort of traction, and after lots of wrestling, you finally fell into the grass below. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A loud </span>
  <em>
    <span>bang! </span>
  </em>
  <span>resounded when your skull slammed against the wood of your farmhouse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The hell?” You could hear someone mutter. You sweat and instantly became pale, then the tremors in your hands began, clutching the back of your head. Your vision was swimming.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did she just hop out the window?!” Another yelled out in exasperation. “Damn it!” Listening as the door of your bedroom slammed open, your head was giddy and your stomach nauseous. With little rationale and care, you started running to the left, but not before you heard the female leader of the group say: </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well? Don't just stand there! Find her, you idiots! Don’t fucking come back until you have her gagged, tied, and begging for her life!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your stomach was full of lead, feet set in concrete, and mind worryingly empty. All you could do was pray for things to slip into place. You could feel the chill of the blades of grass through your toes, your thin nightgown billowing behind you as you took off sprinting in the direction of your woods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, a light you hadn’t noticed sweeping the grounds of your property fell on you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“STOP!” A voice screamed out, scaring you beyond comprehension, but you didn't stop. You hadn’t run so hard in quite some time, your right hip clicking as you struggled to keep up with your left side. If you could make it far enough, the trees would serve for good cover. “I said stop!!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No. There was no way you were stopping. These people clearly wanted to hurt you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You could see two lights swinging aggressively in your vision, the beams striking the leaves of your trees. Just this morning, you were living blissfully calm, walking this path with Eren on your way back from his place out in the woods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even now, you thought of his handsome green eyes and the devastating smile he rarely showcased from time to time. What you would give to have him here with you now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But you were on your own for this one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your awkward gait wasn’t enough to outrun your chasers, and in seconds, you knew they would have you tackled to the ground. You gritted your teeth and suddenly skipped to a stop, your bare feet skidding in the mud. Your head whipped around quickly, (h/c) hair chasing after your scalp in a wild halo. Immediately your fists rose into a fighting stance, years of hand-to-hand combat training rushing to the forefront as you glared darkly at the men who stood before you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From the shine of their lanterns, you could pinpoint some of the unique features of their persons. The first man hooked his lantern to his hip and stood with a rifle aimed directly at your head, eyes unforgiving and harsh. He was young, younger than you surely, but you did not doubt his skills for he stood as still as a rock. Perhaps, he was a seasoned killer?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You recognized the face of his partner, the terrifying wide eyes of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>even younger</span>
  </em>
  <span> boy who watched you from your bedroom window. He had to be only fifteen-years-old but this had no effect on how tall and intimidating he appeared. The boy hesitated a few steps back to avoid your surefire punches you were about to launch his way. His thin frame was decorated with the standard military uniform, much like his partner holding the rifle, and his face was just as twisted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No matter what you did, he already hated you without even having to talk with you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t move,” you could hear the first boy snarl behind the barrel of his gun when he noticed you suddenly grow tense, ready to launch yourself when needed. If it weren’t for the gun he held pointed directly at your head, you would have already initiated some form of combat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then, once the harsh glare of the lantern fell out of your eyes, you noticed the horned horses on their sleeves, and immediately your stomach dropped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why...why was the Military Police trying to kill you?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lowering your arms, you stood with shoulders pinned back and fists clenched tightly. If it was the government, then they were the good guys, right? Maybe you really did something wrong? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somehow, this home invasion seemed far too unorthodox to be real. No, if you were truly in trouble with the law, they would have sent the Garrison to collect you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The MPs had to come all the way from Sina which told you this was not coordinated amongst the branches, and now you wondered how corrupt the government had become since General Zackly’s death four years ago. This whole arrest screamed of insufficient planning and unsanctioned efforts—there was a reason it had to be conducted during the night in hopes no one would see. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This detainment had to be illegal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By why would they come for you of all people? Your eyes scanned the horizon, and now you counted three other military-grade lanterns off in the distance. They had brought many soldiers—as though they were expecting a difficult fight to break out, one that required a surprise ambush in order for them to gain the upper hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh no.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>You knew what they were here for. They didn’t want you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Miss (L/n),” the younger male started, his words coated with scorn. “Where is Eren Yeager?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tension held thick as a blanket, and you all stood knee deep in silence. The lanterns grated from rust, the sound reverberating in your ears like an instrument, yet no one blinked or moved to stop it. Your mouth was drier than a sandbox in summer, and if he didn’t lower that gun soon, you thought you would be sick. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You let out a slow controlled breath and attempted to loosen your body movements. Giving your shoulders a shake, your head lolled forward for a moment before lifting from its slackened position. The two MPs eyes widened with disbelief when you suddenly clicked your bare heels and lifted a curled fist to your heart, a salute you had not performed in many years:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, I ask that you lower your gun. I am not an enemy of humanity, nor an enemy of yours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The air was so brittle it could snap, and if it didn’t, you just might. No one spoke, what was there to say? Platitudes wouldn’t cut it right now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What a strange sight you must have been: hair wild, standing in only a thin nightgown doused in dirt, and giving the standard military salute like your life depended on it. Probably because it did.                </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every time your heart would beat, you felt more willing to do anything possible, as you really had nothing to lose, but your mind was clouded with fear. You held loyal to your salute, eyes boring firm into the gaze of the soldier holding the gun. </span>
  <span>The silence laid like a poison on your skin, but you were totally committed to maintaining your position. It was a decent effort, enough to fool the casual observer, but for the onlooker with a keen eye, you were a walking advert for tension. Your eyes moved with the alertness that came from heavy stress and your hands remained clenched so tight by subconscious demand, crescents formed in your palms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You watched as the two young soldiers shared a look with one another, the rifle drooping ever-so slightly downward to loiter at your feet—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the hell is going on here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two jumped fearfully to attention, spinning around to find their female captain marching up to them. She was older than the two soldiers and most likely your age. Her hair flowed down her back like black ink of a tilted piece of parchment, and her eyes were fox-like and had an icy, grayish-green hue. If it weren’t for the searing death stare she was sending your way, you might think her to be beautiful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She bypassed the sputtering boys to approach you with breakneck speed, ignoring everything in her general vicinity. Her gaze was trained solely on you, and next thing you knew, she threw her body weight behind her fist and socked your straight in the jaw with such force, blood pooled into your mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pain erupted from the point of impact, but she gave you no time to rest. With her two hands, she grasped your head in her hands and brought her knee cap up to your forehead, releasing your (h/c) hair to watch you fall to the ground. You put no effort into fighting back, certain any form of retaliation would earn you more trouble. Her rage almost seemed intentional, personal, as if she were letting off steam with each satisfying crunch of your body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought I told you to have her begging for her life,” she scolded the two boys before drawing back her leg to plow it into your stomach. It was like hitting a wall head on at full speed, your guts smashing together, blood vessels bursting. “Don’t let her appearance fool you. She’s a damned terrorist and will take advantage of your emotional weakness if you are not careful. Learn from your mistakes.” Her voice was biting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ye-yes, ma’am!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your chest gently rose and sank with each shallow breath you drew in. You didn’t know what to say, what to think. All you could do was struggle to catch your breath, for it felt like your innards were replaced with some kind of black hole. Nausea crept from your abdomen and vomit spilled from your mouth along the muddied grass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Disgusting,” you heard her murmur. “Pick her up. We’ve already made too much of a scene as it is.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You could feel their arms come to encircle themselves beneath your armpits, tugging resolutely in hopes to get you to wake up and stand on your own. Your head was spinning, and you had the face of a china doll and a body of rags. They continued to support you but nearly fell over when you crumpled like a puppet suddenly released from your strings. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She really did a number on you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once the soldiers had you situated, nearly dangling from their shoulders as they followed after their captain, you coughed weakly and chose to remain civil until the time was right. They pulled you back to your farmhouse, many metres away to let you watch as they doused a couple tiny balls of cloth in gasoline.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If the Coordinate is in there, this will bring him out."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You blinked rapidly in confusion, your brain having yet to settle from the beating it just took. Trying to remain as stoic and strong as you could, you watched as they drew a flame to a line and threw the balls of cloth through your windows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In seconds, you were watching with agony as your childhood home went up in flames.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was nothing natural about this fire—it grew faster than any other fire you had ever witnessed before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How-how is it going up so fast?” You mumbled aloud to no one in particular, clearly delusional and unsure if this was all </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pressure of the unbearable heat was growing stronger, forewarning you to stop with your naive behavior, because this was only going to get realer from here on out. The inferno spat angrily beneath the frame of your door, the wood fast becoming ash and the vinyl of your windows sliding down like chocolate in summer heat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The terrible smell of burnt cotton and wool wafted over your nose, and you imagined all your knitting projects no longer savable. The smoke billowed black in your direction, filling your lungs. The coughing was instant as were the tears that washed over your eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The image of the flame remained stark in your memory—it burned with colors you had never thought imaginable. With each flare and hiss, you knew another of your possessions was alight. You immediately dropped to your knees, feeling the soldiers at your side wince when you collapsed out of their grasps. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once free, you crawled forward and found the strength to stand, pure adrenaline coursing through your veins as you started to limp, wide-eyed and possessed with only one goal: you had to save your farmhouse, your sanctuary and lifetime of memories, now turned hellhole.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No one tried to stop you, and you wondered if they were watching you out of pity or in hopes that you would leap into the burning building and just die that way. You were just a few feet from the corner of the foundation, the walls of your kitchen, when they finally came to pull you back. Yes, you were too valuable to let go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The heat scorched your skin and your throat screamed for relief from the potent substance, for it had no culture, no pity, no mind, yet it consumed whatever it pleased. The flames only criteria was if it could take it and reduce it to ash or something molten and foul, then it would. They burned hot, short and violent, with no care of what would be left behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glistening shards of glass cascaded from the burning building as flames licked the charred window frames. Your eyebrows furrowed deeply, the tears finally spilling over when you truly came to terms that this wasn’t just a nightmare. What was left of your mother and father’s memories were gone; you could only imagine the sad looks on their faces right now as they looked on from another world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But as the flames engulfed your cottage, scorching your skin and singeing the surrounding grass, what you wished for was Eren. You needed real comfort, strong arms, and reassuring words. You needed banalities however empty, because if he said them, you would believe it without a doubt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“(Y/n) (L/n).” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your attention was drawn to the captain and her eyes were ice. Once more you were lifted up to your feet, cooperating as well as you could, because in all honesty, you didn’t know what else to do. Everything felt hopeless in that moment as they tied your hands behind your back and your body swayed like a leaf in the wind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You knew her orders came from a person above her position, yet you couldn’t help wondering if she felt personal satisfaction from tearing you down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her tone was nothing short of steel, her features burning with a vengeance in the light of the fire of your house. Like reading from a script, she began:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are under arrest in violation of the Charter of Humanity and will be placed on trial for these following felonies: Supporting the Yeagerist faction, concealing and failing to report the Coordinate to law enforcement officials, assisting in the murder of humanity, and ultimately venturing to overthrow the government. Any other misdemeanors you are found guilty of will also be considered in determining your method of punishment in the court of law. You will now be escorted to the local jail for interrogation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your gaze fell dimly to your bare feet. You had no energy to keep your head lifted any longer. This...it was a false accusation, it had to be. You couldn't understand any of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If only Eren had stayed one more day, maybe things would have turned out differently. </span>
  <span>Or perhaps if he had left weeks sooner, it never would have happened at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You couldn’t decide which you preferred, for the shock and bodily stress put you under into a deep stupor.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'd say this is the official beginning of our second arc of the story! So it seems like the Scouts were too late to stop the MPs from coming for Eren, and of course, you suffered as collateral damage! Will the Scouts come save you? Will Eren ever find out what happened to you after he left? I guess only I know the answer to those questions hahaha </p><p>Every week, I find myself more and more astonished with everyone's positive feedback! Lemme tell you, I'll post a chapter and literally every time I'm like "Wow, this is the worse one yet." but then you all are so kind and receptive to my thoughts and interpretations of characters and motives, I feel so blessed to have such supportive readers! Please continue sharing your thoughts, and I love to hear any recommendations you all might have or want to see in this story! I'm very open to hearing ideas! Thank you all so much!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>24 Hours After Eren Yeager’s Departure from Blackstone Valley</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Black clouds sprawled across the sky, billowing in from the west. Their brassy glare drained color from the land before them and left the ground tinted bronze in the faltering morning light. A stillness fell over the group of horseback riders, and in the silence came a low crackle of thunder, rolling across the plains. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment, everything stopped. Even the wind held its breath. A streak of hot silver split the sky, and the downpour began.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Take cover under the trees!” Hanji cried to their small group, glasses fogged from the sudden change of air pressure. They guided the horses next to a short river, a small patch of oaks standing firm against the torrent.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The scent of rain was dark and heady in his nose. Jean watched from the protection of the evergreen as the rain suddenly poured from the sky and fell in crazy chaotic drops, the gusting wind carrying them in wild vortices one moment and diagonal sheets the next. The path through the flat stretch of terrain in Krolva was muddy water in motion, deep, filled puddles hiding the ruts of dryer weather.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jean vented with a sigh. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“As if things couldn’t get any worse…”</span>
  </em>
  <span> He was already in a bad mood.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But honestly, when was Jean </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>irritated with every little detail of his life nowadays? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The rain had lost the ambient temperature of early fall, freezing and paling his skin upon contact. It ran down his face as a thin layer, not as cold as it would be when winter comes, but without the warmth of summer showers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Weird...there weren’t any clouds before?” Jean could hear Armin speak aloud to no one in particular, a fair distance away but close enough to be heard. The rain was too thick to attempt navigating the rock-sodden paths of Krolva; it was best to just wait it out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jean grumbled with annoyance, dismounting off his horse to guide him a few metres closer to the river. He was currently running on eight hours of sleep over the last three days, and this morning, he woke up too late for breakfast, so now his sore muscles were aching for sustenance after hours of horseback riding. At least he could be happy knowing this was the final leg of their journey to Blackstone Valley.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oi, uh-Jean—” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Jean’s caramel-colored eyes swerved sharply to his right, teeth clenched and voice biting when Connie’s shit-eating grin made an appearance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“C’mon man, don’t be like that! This one will be good, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I promise</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Connie pleaded loudly over the rain, following Jean’s actions and escorting his horse for a drink of water. Once situated, he turned to Jean with hands clasped in front of his chest like a damsel, a drenched and poorly shaven one at that. His hazel eyes were big and fluttering in a dramatic fashion meant to draw a chuckle. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jean only huffed with annoyance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For the last three days, Connie’s presence seemed to buzz around Jean like a fly he could never swat. Every word, movement, and joke Connie performed irritated him to no end, and although he appreciated the distraction, Jean found Connie’s jokes to be as lamebrained as the teller, himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go ahead,” Jean had to suppress a yawn, Connie’s grin only growing in size. But before he could speak, Jean lifted one of his blistered hands from the reins for attention, the rain pillowing in his sleeve: “BUT, if I don’t laugh, you never speak to me again for the remainder of this trip, got it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Connie gasped as if to feign hurt, clearly just as delusional as Jean felt at this point from endless time in the freezing outdoors. Or perhaps that was Connie’s normal disposition? Jean couldn’t tell anymore.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, damn, Jean. Kick a man while he’s already down, why don’tcha?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t think that’s the right saying.” Jean glanced over to Connie and found the idiot with the corners of his lips fighting a smile, eyebrows slightly raised. The brunette looked away before he could see that mischievous look of Connie’s spread—he swore, that guy’s attraction to trouble was a contagion. After one big swig of water from his canteen, he said, “Just tell your joke, Connie.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not sure if I </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>to now, asshole,” Connie scoffed, leaning his buzzed hair back against his horse. “I gotta come up with a better joke since you’re threatening our friendship.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jean peered up toward the sky when the deluge only settled down a miniscule, face resolutely unimpressed. “I already know it’s gonna be a joke about horses.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Heh,” Connie paused thoughtfully, eyes bright and seemingly inspired. “How did you know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“BECAUSE—” Jean had to cough a little into his fist to calm his sudden flare of anger. Normally, he wouldn’t respond so brashly, but starvation and sleep-deprivation had left him cranky. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Because…</span>
  </em>
  <span> Every joke you’ve told me on this </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking</span>
  </em>
  <span> trip with you has been about horses.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Connie rose a hand to cup at his chin, stroking the stubble amid his jawline. “You know...now that I think about it, you might be right.” Jean groaned and lifted his fingers to twist and massage at the back of his tawny hair, wondering when this torture would end. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His riding partner took that moment to stand tall and brushed his hands over the unkempt coat of his horse. “Naya always thought they were funny! Didn’tcha, girl?” He cooed uncharacteristically—another joke, maybe to ease the tension, Jean assumed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was safe to say they were running on fumes at this point—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey guys.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jean allowed his steely gaze to observe his commander, a little late to their conversation, but he figured it was for the best. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let’s give this rain a few more minutes. We can’t waste anymore time than we already have,” Hanji sighed out in her typical exaggerated fashion, removing her glasses to cleanse them with the hem of her undershirt. “Levi wouldn’t be happy with how long this trip has lasted us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jean laughed mockingly in his head, only a little snicker escaping his lips. He reflected on when the entirety of their team started referring to this mission as a “trip,” as though it were some kind of vacation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After engaging in little small talk, Hanji bid them farewell before sauntering off in the direction of Mikasa, probably to ask her to grab some rest now before it was too late. It seemed the closer they got to Eren, the more tense she became and the deeper the dark circles under her eyes grew.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jean couldn’t blame her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He allowed his eyelids to flutter shut in hopes to catch some extra rest as well, his mind permitted to wander as it pleased:</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Only the five highest ranking members of the Survey Corps were selected for this top secret mission: Commander Hanji, Mikasa, Armin, Jean, and Connie. It was important for them to remain as elusive as possible when under the watchful eye of the newest Premier—who currently had a knack for keeping his military branches on impossibly short leashes—so smaller numbers were warranted for success.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not only did they need to remain discrete, but the Scouts didn’t wish to raise any suspicion of treason, especially with their rather intimate history with Yeager. The Military Police held strict orders to persecute any civilian or soldier who presented themselves as Yeagerists, and despite </span>
  <em>
    <span>years </span>
  </em>
  <span>of battling radical Yeagerists to capture Eren and end the Rumbling, the MPs still held suspicion of the Scouts as secret allies of his.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Well...at this point in time, the Scouts really aren’t allies of Yeager’s,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Jean thought, but they sure as hell weren’t allies of the MPs either, and being the enemy of their enemies...that would make Yeager a friend. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not to even </span>
  <em>
    <span>mention</span>
  </em>
  <span> the wrench (y/n)’s involvement threw into this whole scheme. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So in the end, the MPs could </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> be trusted with recovering Eren. Perhaps the Scouts wouldn’t have felt as rushed if </span>
  <em>
    <span>she </span>
  </em>
  <span>weren’t entangled in this mess, but once more, that damn bastard couldn’t think straight and used whoever he wanted, and this served to only infuriate Jean more than ever. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After nearly all of their previous members were wiped from Mitras four years ago, the Military Police Brigade had grown vindictive and power-hungry. (Y/n) would undoubtedly be charged as a Yeagerist if they caught her before they could stop it, and with Eren’s unpredictable behavior...they weren’t all that sure he would make the effort to try and save her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“—In all seriousness, Jean.” His tawny eyes narrowed, disrupted from his train of thought, and lifted to greet Connie once more, who was now staring at the water with a rather austere glare. “What I’m about to say stays between you and me, okay? I want to know what you think.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jean surveyed the area around him, Mikasa and Armin speaking to Hanji quietly, several strides away and atop their horses. He took that as his cue to follow suit and cleanly mounted his horse, Connie imitating his actions. Jean rested himself against the saddle for a moment, his face of utter nonchalance, as if he were merely waiting for the orders to depart. He wasn’t slumped at all, his body too lean and muscular for that, yet it was just as relaxed as his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is it?” His voice was coarse like fragmented rock in a bag, moving and grinding against each other. He half-expected his travel partner to clean that glower off his face and tease him with another horse joke, but Connie remained stagnant:</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not the most perceptive guy around, I’ll admit, but sometimes I get the feeling Hanji is hiding something from us.” His face was drained of color by a gaunt stare, one that spoke of suspicion and marred with hours of speculation behind closed doors. “One minute, we have the trust of the Military Police to capture Eren, and the next, they’re secretly working to capture Eren on their own? What conspiracy is that? </span>
  <em>
    <span>I just don’t get it.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jean waited patiently, unmoving despite the onslaught of rain. It settled down for about a minute before the wind prompted it back into full throttle, Jean giving Connie his full attention. He knew it took Connie a few more words than others to say something right—sometimes an economy of speech reflected a wealth of sentiment for him:</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean, clearly, the Premier has no faith in us. It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>our </span>
  </em>
  <span>jobs as Scouts to catch Eren, but now the MPs are swooping in to take him into custody? Did the objective change? From what I’ve been told, our goal is to capture Eren and bring him in for a trial like the MPs want. Then we take Eren back with us and feed him to Armin. Is that not the plan anymore? Why are the MPs hiding information from us?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jean sent Connie a quick look and raised a finger to his lips in hopes to calm his friend’s boisterous voice, which grew louder with each passion-filled word. His gaze shifted over his shoulder to find their three partners still conversing a few metres away, a little more adamant now, but completely unaware of his and Connie’s discussion.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So what you’re saying,” Jean rumbled lowly, light-brown eyes swirling with solemnity and another unknown emotion, “is that you think Hanji changed our goals without our knowledge?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Connie almost looked taken aback by the gravity of Jean’s voice, unsure if he should have even brought it up in the first place. Visibly swallowing the lump in his throat, his bright hazel eyes casted themselves to his right to bore quietly into the bark of a nearby tree, unable to meet Jean’s stern gaze. “Yeah...either that, or the MPs changed, and they don’t want Eren just for a trial anymore.” Connie hesitated once more before turning to face his long-time friend of many years. His best friend. “Do you disagree?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jean blinked once. The sigh that came was a signal, not of his resolve leaving, but of the level his stress had reached. He was more like an old-fashioned kettle—still full even when some steam forced its way out. “No, I agree. I get the same feeling about Armin, too. Hiding something from us, that is.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Connie nodded his head firmly, looking far too mature for his typically goofy visage. “So what do you think then? Should we say something about it?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With broad shoulders and his eyebrows currently knit in the deepest furrow on his forehead, one might think Connie to be a menacing figure who would domineer any who crossed his path. Jean almost wished he would stop looking so serious, just to have him go back to that cheshire cat grin of his, the one that always brought ease to even the most tense of situations. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think we just need to have faith in commandment. Armin has always had our back, so we should trust whatever he asks us to do, even if he or Hanji doesn’t give a reason for it.” Everyone was playing their hands close to their chests, Jean figured. “Right now, this is a three-way battle between us, the MPs, and Yeager. Motives are still up in the air, and what we knew before is changing, and changing </span>
  <em>
    <span>fast.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The goal is still to collect Eren and protect (y/n) from the MPs, right?” Connie inquired with a finger pressed just above the curve of his chin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, the bastard is our main goal as of right now. No matter what we speculate, our motives as Scouts remain the same. We need to capture Eren and secure his titans within Armin by the end of this month.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jean perked to the sight of Hanji waving them forward, kicking his horse into a trot when he noticed their slacking pace. Connie pulled close to him as they attempted to catch up to Mikasa and Armin who were already quite the distance ahead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jean turned to his riding partner, and as much as he loved to complain, he knew deep down he was thankful for Connie’s presence. He felt he could relate most to him out of who was left of the 104th. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once recovered from the initial shock of changing pace, Jean continued explaining his thoughts: “I don’t think Armin would hide something so critical from us if it weren’t for the better. At the most, he’s probably used that big brain of his and realized something incredible, something too great for us to understand just yet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The steady icy rain had retreated to an early morning mist, yet it was still bone-chilling and clung to every surface. Jean mindfully promised his horse to give him the best treat he could find by the end of this three-day journey, for he deserved every bit of praise and more. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The mist continued to whip around them in the turbulent air, relaxed and bringing great relief. The flat plains of Krolva were just beginning to morph into hills, indicating their entry into the outskirts of the valley beyond.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. I trust him and Hanji with my life, you’re right,” Connie shot him a look of arrogant triumph, a smirk that bared his teeth and reflected his characteristically cocky-self. Jean couldn’t help but to return it with a crooked smile of his own, feeling proud he could help Connie navigate his thoughts. “Although, I do think it’s safe to assume those MP bastards aren’t just here to take Eren to trial.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jean nodded his head in confirmation. “I believe that, too. It’s not just about a </span>
  <em>
    <span>proper trial </span>
  </em>
  <span>for Yeager, I don’t think it ever was. They need him for something; otherwise, they would have felt comfortable entrusting his capture to the Scouts.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Actually, it was Armin who pointed this out to him originally. On the first night of their trip, Armin was able to convince Hanji of a potential underlying motive of the MPs, one that was beyond Jean’s understanding but held the possibility of threatening Historia and her children. In the end, the same conclusion was drawn no matter the speculation: Eren needed to return. His titans and the fate of the rest of humanity would only be safe in the hands of the Survey Corps.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And as much as Jean loved to grumble about how difficult this journey to Blackstone Valley was proving to be, he knew deep down this would be one of the Survey Corps’ most important missions in many years—.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oi, what’s going on up there?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jean’s gaze immediately flew forward, a little on edge from Connie’s sudden ominous tone. Armin and Hanji’s horses had come to a complete stop. Mikasa was nowhere to be seen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a burst of energy unbeknownst to him, he squeezed his legs and yipped lightly, encouraging his horse to increase his speed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could feel his hands tremble slightly, ochre eyes watering from the coolness of the air. Jean could hear Connie call after him, but he was far too focused on the direction of Armin and Hanji’s gazes, both of them still with shock and mouths gaping with a fear he had not seen since their days of fighting titans. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite the chill, his body felt hot and sweat trickled down his neck. He gripped the reins even tighter, twisting them as an outlet for his sudden surge of terror of the unknown. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He blasted past Armin and Hanji, not even bothering to spare a glance in their direction. All he needed to know was why he couldn’t see the shine of Mikasa’s dark hair in his vision. Climbing the hill in seconds, he had his answer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What the hell?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a moment where Jean’s face washed blank with confusion, like his brain cogs couldn’t turn fast enough to take in the information before him. Mikasa was knelt upon the ground, her horse galloping off in the distance, clearly spooked by whatever the black-haired beauty was staring at. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jean yanked the reins of his horse back so quickly, the horse rose up on its hind legs and turned a quarter to his left. Every muscle of his body was frozen. For a split second, his emotions were suspended in air, the surprise protecting him until it shattered like glass. The air grew heavy and the humidity pressed down on them, suffocating.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mikasa’s gaze pulled away from the man lying prone in the dirt before her, her deep onyx eyes boring into Jean. They were as dark as the night, like two endless caverns, crowded with tears as she gave him one of the most heartbreaking looks he had ever seen. He was mesmerized by her for a moment, peering past the fringe of her raven-colored bangs. Her face was aristocratic in a way with its high cheekbones and a prominent nose. She looked like an ethereal beauty, but there was a hint of dark violence in her features.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With one small grunt of effort, she stripped the straps of a bag off his back and turned over the </span>
  <em>
    <span>last </span>
  </em>
  <span>person Jean had ever expected to see on this planet. He could already feel the rage pooling deep within him, for in her hold was the limp body of her adoptive brother, the man who destroyed the world, the man they had been chasing for the last four years. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Eren Yeager.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anger boiled deep in his system, as hot as lava. It churned within, hungry for destruction, and when Jean noticed (y/n) was nowhere to be found, he knew it was too much for him to handle. His rage spilled over the seams, and in seconds, he was off his horse, fist cocked back just in time for the idiot to crack a single, emerald eye open. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was going to murder that fucking bastard. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...(Y/n)?” Jean heard him murmur, the name bringing his planned assault to a pause.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eren? Where is she?” Mikasa pried gently in hopes to coax him from his unconsciousness. His eyes retreated behind the safety of his lashes. “He’s burning up. Probably a fever,” she commented idly to Jean, her gaze refusing to stray from the face of what was left of her family. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could tell Mikasa was keeping her distance, only allowing a single hand to rest on her brother’s forehead, but nothing more. It had been four years, afterall, and even though what Eren said to her last was supposedly an act to protect her and Armin, it was still obvious they hadn’t left on good terms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was then Jean noticed the blood pooling from the corners of Yeager’s mouth, and he hissed angrily now that he no longer had an outlet for his frustration. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What the hell is going on?</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>The lights flickered in the direction of the stairway, your face automatically twisting into a mixture of fright and outrage. In the distance, footsteps clumped rhythmically with the faint sound of water dripping from an old dingy drain pipe. Through the gloom of your cell, all you could make out was the iron-barred wall. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Your aching muscles grew tense, prepared for another round of interrogation. In seconds, your stomach responded with a grumble, echoing round and round the chamber walls until it faded into nothing. In an effort to stop the pain, you grasped at your abdomen, only to feel the familiar sensation of bones crushed under tight skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey...Are you hungry?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Your dim gaze slowly lifted upward to greet your visitor, the down-curve of your lips returning to a neutral expression. A sense of relief overcame you—there would be no interrogation for now, it appeared. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before you stood the fifteen-year-old recruit who had captured you, his impossibly huge eyes filled with worry when you rose shakily to a stand. This was his second time visiting you at your cell.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You opened your mouth to let out a greeting, “...” but you couldn’t find your voice. Rather, you remained flush with the back wall, head hung low and dirty (h/c) strands framing your ashen face. Your legs bent inward like a tripod, knees clicking together in support for one another.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They asked me to bring you some clothes—we’re moving you today,” the boy started off, sounding a little unsure of himself. “And I brought you some food, too. It’s gonna be a long walk, so you’ll need it.” You peered silently at his outstretched arms; in one, a simple plate choked full of bread and a single slice of turkey, and the other, a standard pair of clothes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Doubt suddenly shot through you like a piercing arrow. Doubt of his existence. Doubt of his good-natured expression. Its branches dug deep within you, but you endured it out of yearning for his kindness to be true. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Listen, I’m actually not supposed to be giving you anything to eat, so-um, I’ll just leave this here for you, and when you’re done, throw the plate out the window, and I’ll pick it up outside,” and just as he promised, he lowered the goods to the stone floor and proceeded to scratch at the back of his neck, looking more and more boyish by the second. He appeared to be waiting for any kind of reaction from you; a few words, a motion of gratitude—anything, really. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You only stared blankly at your feet, conflicted by his benevolent nature. Was it a trick to get you to trust him? Or should you give him the benefit of the doubt?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“What harm would a ‘thank you’ do?”  </span>
  </em>
  <span>You mused, curious as to why this kid even bothered to go out of his way to help you.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You couldn’t help but to feel a little guilty for subconsciously hating him when he clearly was only a child following the orders of his captain. Your hatred masqueraded as an ointment to hurt, when in truth, it was no more than gasoline for the flames. Hatred only guaranteed more enmity, more pain, more death ahead, and never more healing. It wasn’t in your nature to hold such dislike for a child, who clearly felt remorse for his past actions.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That age-old teaching of your father’s rang true in your head: Hatred only served to make one weaker, a poison transmitted via ill-thought out words. So with a quick shake of your head, you limped forward to grasp onto the iron bars of your cage in search for answers from this supposed enemy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“W-wait!” Your voice was soft and foreign to your ears. You hadn’t used it since the night your farmhouse was turned to ash. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was no reason for you to converse with this kid, hardly on the precipice of maturity. Perhaps it was because you saw yourself within him? A child fresh out of the Training Corps, struggling to find himself while shrouded in the murk of this cruel and rapidly changing world.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His spine went completely rigid, lanky legs paused mid-stride. Your (e/c) eyes, which now held a more compassionate and bright look, bored into his own gray-colored ones. His fingers fiddled with his Military Police jacket, unsure of what else to do. He simply kicked his heels and stood with anticipation raking each breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have to know,” you began slowly, fingers vice-like on the bars, holding you firm in your position. “Why are you being so nice to me?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a straightforward, uncomplicated question, one that should have been a cinch to answer, but the way sweat beaded on his forehead told you otherwise. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, thoughts contradicting and clashing in his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His torso fidgeted over top steady legs, unwilling to offer any form of response. You couldn’t understand why he was so high strung around you, a prisoner with no power or ability to attack him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Your measured cadence continued with its demurity. “Is this to gain my trust so I’ll tell you what they want to hear..?” You were blunt with your accusation, but not a single ounce of hostility could be heard. The boy thought you simply seemed to be...curious. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Your reserved nature startled him into action. “No!” His arm abruptly waved the length of his body, paused in midair at his side while his face curled downward with denial. “I mean...I heard you weren’t speaking, no matter what they did to you. But I wouldn’t...I just, well—I couldn’t understand—I guess—” You waited while his mind pulled him in opposite directions, as if his brain’s narrator and navigator had entirely different ideas. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a slight tug at the corner of your lips, a smile you hadn’t felt in many days when the nostalgia struck you. His polite nature reminded you of a particular person, a close friend of yours from the Survey Corps who had a knack for stealing food and one hell of a marksman’s eye.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s alright. You don’t have to answer!” You held up an arm and waved your hand at the wrist in what was meant to be a comforting gesture, head tilted slightly to the left. “Thank you for this, I really appreciate the effort,” you hoped your words would earn this naive boy’s trust, although, there was still truth in your gratitude. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If things played out as you hoped, he would stick around to speak with you a little longer. Your ultimate goal was to spark up a conversation that could offer you more information on your arrest and why the MPs truly cared so much about your connection to Eren.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a rather ambitious goal, but in the end, just making a friend among these people would leave you satisfied with your efforts, regardless of the outcome.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You slid to the ground, desire overcoming your bitter willpower when the smell of baked bread drifted to your nose. Hunger was a terrible pain, one that was constant and grinding, and something you were fortunate to never have to experience thanks to your father’s farm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Food had become your constant obsession over the last two days, and you couldn’t help but spend your time wondering if the plants outside your basement cell window were edible at times. You didn’t care if this bread was too hard to chew, just that it could stave off the pains for awhile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Licking your cracked lips, you munched on the food as well as you could, very few breaths in between mouthfuls. You pondered quietly over this whole situation, an observer who liked to evaluate the circumstances before taking action. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yeah, you couldn’t act too reckless around the MPs. Any rash or impulsive decision could have you tied up in chains if you weren’t careful—you were lucky enough they even gave you breaks from interrogation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It would be a gross understatement to say you were bewildered by these false allegations placed over your head. Was this really how they arrested and treated people nowadays? At this point, you were certain they had automatically deemed you a criminal. There would be a trial in two days, but definitely not a fair one, based on what you knew so far. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But why? Why did they have to burn your house down like that? No questions were asked, no objections were heard on your end. Couldn’t they have at least searched it for evidence? Or did they truly believe Eren was hiding somewhere within its depths? There was no rational solution behind their reasoning, at least one you couldn’t come up with on your own. Lately these days, your exhaustion has been flourishing over basic logical functions.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And the interrogation questions—though it may seem strange, most of them were not geared toward your motives. It was like they wanted </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing </span>
  </em>
  <span>to do with helping to prove your innocence, because to your captors, you were already guilty. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All they really wanted to know was how much time had passed since Eren left. They wanted information on his behavior and any shifts he had performed in your presence. They wanted to know every little detail about every conversation you ever had with him, even going as far back as your first day in the 104th… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You hardly answered, determined to remain silent whenever possible. Despite what you said, they would never believe you, and any torture would be worth it if it meant you could protect Eren. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You shivered when an invisible chill crawled down your spine, memories of images splayed out before you, and you remembered how diligently they worked to get you to turn against your longtime friend. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They told stories of the terror he brought to millions—men, women, and even children fell to their demise at his hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They told of how he betrayed the Survey Corps and even helped his half-brother to transform hundreds of MP officers into titans, all of which you were partially aware of, but chose to neglect as these were decisions Eren had to make during the darkest time of his life. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Decisions you and everyone in the world would </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>understand, no matter how much you speculated. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In truth, all they wanted was to plant some sort of seed of doubt within you, anything to get you to change your mind about staying faithful to Eren. Taking careful time, they whispered in your ears of how Eren had used you, leaving only at a time most convenient for him, just before they arrived to arrest you. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You’d be damned to say their words didn’t affect you </span>
  <em>
    <span>at least </span>
  </em>
  <span>a little…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But then you remembered that final hug of his, so wholesome and strong and </span>
  <em>
    <span>desperate. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The image of his sun-kissed skin turned pink along the cheeks, his lips curved downward in that embarrassed frown which betrayed his normally stoic features. That was </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and no matter what they tried to say or how many of your possessions they took away, they could not take away the feelings of intimacy and fondness you shared with Eren Yeager. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And even if you were to question him on his deeds of years gone by, you wouldn’t do it under their pressure. You would ask him directly, because only the truth could come from the horse’s mouth, himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So yeah. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In all reality, you truly had no affiliation with the Yeagerists. The only reason you allowed Eren to stay in your home for that last month was to offer him a friendly face when no one else would, slowly becoming blind with an adoration you had never felt until now. You chose to judge him for his character rather than his past actions, all of which he performed while staying true to his dreams of freedom. In your experience, he was only kind and greatly devoted to your well-being.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A mild cough halted your scarfing, and your ribs ached from the sensation. You wanted to wheeze with pain, but thoughts of Eren kept you distracted and flooded your mind at a rapid pace. You mused over how he—someone clearly suffering from years of mental and physical trauma—could be so </span>
  <em>
    <span>selfless</span>
  </em>
  <span>, dedicating the final days of his existence to ensuring your way-of-life remained protected, even if it failed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yeah, that’s right… You learned about the Curse of Ymir when they interrogated you last night. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Although he made sure to never tell you, you knew there was something wrong. The way his bruises and cuts no longer healed as quickly as they used to, the nosebleeds, and his standoffish behavior… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were warning signs that made you only fret over his safety more and more. The MPs mentioned to you he was coming to the end of his life cycle—it was the Curse of Ymir, or so they said. Not a single citizen was aware of this curse, only those in the military were told and promised secrecy, and according to their knowledge, the discovery of the existence of the curse was made days after you were dismissed from the Survey Corps. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You almost didn’t want to believe them, but the evidence was right there in front of you.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eren was going to die very soon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Miss?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Your gaze shot upward just in time to see the teenage officer squat down before you, an arm’s length away from your iron cell. His upper body looked awkward, clearly too lengthy for his legs, but they dutifully held fixed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Cadet?” You urged him to get on with his words, patient but wishing he would leave you for now—not to mention you were a little frightened for his welfare if he were caught fraternizing with you.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With one long stare, you noted the child-like chubbiness of his face and jawline, which would soon be replaced with sharper angles over time. You just couldn’t bring yourself to hate him for all that’s happened, although you really wished for him to recognize just how warped and unfair his orders were. In all honesty, you only felt pity for the kid. He was hardly a year older than Remi, now that you thought about it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I...I just wanted to know,” his eyes shifted uncomfortably in the dim pallor of light, anxious and a little neurotic until they landed on your form. “I saw the way you saluted—that night we came and...well, you didn’t even fight back when the Captain kicked you down! I guess—I guess I’m just curious about you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You stared with wide eyes, a little shocked by his revelation and unsure of how to respond. An obvious heat filled his cheeks, something beyond an attractive rosiness and more of a blotchy patch of red. He wasn’t embarrassed by his admission; no, but rather how obvious his social incompetence was. It was like all his insecurities were writ large along his face, nowhere to hide. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, you know what they say about ‘curiosity?’” Your quiet laugh, which was more of an exhale of air than anything, startled the boy, his arms squeezing tighter around his knees, lantern abandoned by his side. “We should probably leave it at that, Cadet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A frown found itself along his thin lips. “I’ve seen criminals before, miss. And you don’t seem like one,” his voice was downcast, almost disappointed with each word he said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, that’s not really for us to decide,” you informed him gently, unsure of how to take in this new information. Should you feel happy? Happy to have someone on your side in a time when you had never felt lonelier? Or should you feel afraid for him?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His insecurity and hesitation to trust the judgement of his own military branch drew red flags in your mind. He may still be an inexperienced kid, but it was obvious he was struggling with his moral compass in more ways than one. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But—” he bit his lip harshly, making you flinch from the suddenness of it all. Could you really do this? This kid was clearly struggling in a mental battle of virtue and principle. Convincing him to join your side would only prove to destroy his sense of morality even further. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At the least, you should gather some information from him. Let him think you to be a criminal, so long as it helped him sleep a little better at night.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“—You sounded so devoted when you said you weren’t an enemy of humanity… You know titans don’t exist anymore, right? I mean, what humanity is there to defend?” He stared expectantly at you, eager for an answer he had been waiting for since that night he first met you. For a second, you noticed his eyes droop lower to stare at your legs, stunned by the wooden prosthetic that adorned your right foot. His stormy eyes then jumped shyly to the right when he remembered you were watching him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s quite the loaded question,” you mumbled, idly fiddling with the tiny golden hoops in your ears, the sole relics of your mother’s. “Have you ever fought a titan before, Cadet?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wore a perplexed expression, his face fallen with no mask of coping left. “No, ma’am.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You nodded your head slowly, choosing to nibble on the slice of turkey next as you spoke and tried to appear as unconcerned as possible. “That’s good...and hopefully you’ll never have to see one.” But despite your efforts, you couldn’t halt the emptiness that filled your soul, eyes glazed over in deep memory of the first titan you had ever battled. “I guess I only mentioned humanity because I was desperate. I was a soldier when the titans were still around, so it was the first thing that came to mind.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><em>That mouth, which opened downward, armed with terrific mandibles while huge, compound eyes looked like enormous crystals of cut glass.</em> </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nothing was more horrifying in your mind than that first day you were assigned to assist the vanguard at the Battle of Trost. Even after eight years, the screams of your squad leader still splintered your insides, your memories splayed out in dramatic fashion as a 5 meter titan tore his arm clean off in that old church you took refuge in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re extinct at this point in time.” He grounded out from his knees with intrigue, oblivious to the soulless look in your eyes. “They just changed training regimens to only a year long process. They want us strictly focused on hand-to-hand combat and firearms.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chewing slowly, you savored the flavor of meat upon your tongue, your salivary glands stiff from their excessive use. You idly contemplated this new information and wondered how many kids were accepted into the military police now that they were desperate for soldiers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I see… Titans were once our number enemy who threatened our extinction, but I suppose you could say if it weren’t for the Rumbling, the titans would still be around—oh! But I don’t want to neglect the deaths of all the people who were sacrificed in that process. This whole thing has been terrible for everyone,” you murmured over your fingers, swallowing what was left of the turkey before returning your focus back to the whole-grain bread.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What surprised you most was how accepting of your thoughts the teenager was, nodding his head a little too fervently in agreement. “That’s what my dad told me. I’m just thankful my family is still alive after everything that has happened, you know? Now, I just want to make up for it all and honor the deaths of both our comrades and our enemies.” He continued to nibble on his lip, a nervous habit of his you had picked up on. “But when I graduated, I never expected they would ask me to...well, nevermind.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You peered silently through the thick iron bars, wishing he would speak more on the subject, but you didn’t wish to push him. He had already told you enough, hinting at unrest amongst the MPs, an unspeakable mission he was ordered to not share with anyone. Shortening training to one year informed you they were desperate for able-bodied men and women.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Your eyebrows nestled themselves deeply within their crook when a whole wave of new information rushed through you, the thoughts all clicking into place with each moment passing. You struggled with the purpose of your persecution, simply settling for the conclusion that your trial would serve as a prime warning to any Yeagerist who wished to attempt to thwart the military’s power. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yes. Regardless of the outcome of your trial, you were certain you would be put to death.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The cadet before you stood and grabbed your empty plate, nudging your clothes closer to your body with hunched shoulders. He turned to leave, opting to give you privacy when you became unresponsive, (e/c) eyes vast and completely engrossed in thought.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cadet?” your voice was serious, far more serious than you intended. Once the shock dissipated and your heart returned to its steady, almost bored thumping, you picked yourself off the rough stone floor and swiped at the dirt covering your nightgown with newfound energy. The boy glanced over his shoulder, his face expectant in the half-shadow of light. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s Jennings,” he informed. He appeared to listen intently as if your next words were golden, perhaps some elixir he’d been waiting all his days to hear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What you were going to say next was nothing extravagant, probably a disappointing statement with no real value, but you truly meant it. “Right,” your smile was partly radiant and partly empty, a little superficial on your end, but who could blame you? “Please, take care of yourself out there.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jennings trained his eyes keenly on the path before he offered you a stern nod, his leather boots clicking rapidly as he sped up the stairs to avoid any further suspicion. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was almost odd for you to make a connection so quickly, to give your trust so easily, tentative though it was. There was something in the way he smiled, a warmth, a genuineness, a softness of spirit in those silver-gray eyes you just couldn’t pass up. He didn’t have to bring you anything to eat, nor did he have to stick around and speak with you about listless topics with no real purpose other than to qualm his spirit of inquiry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could be your key to escape.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A rush of wind flowed into the cell, sending shivers up and down your body with sets of goosebumps to match. It tousled your hair, greasy and unwashed, and your attention was immediately focused on the clothes Jennings had brought for you. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Reaching stiffly through the bars, you retrieved each article of clothing individually, an odd assortment of old hand-me-downs they had probably dug up from a lost-and-found bin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In minutes, you were standing with your top half bare, a pair of pressed dark green trousers sitting loose on your hips. You senselessly poked at the dark violet contusions of varying shapes and sizes adorning your tummy, all in different stages of the healing process.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once satisfied with your prodding, you applied a navy blue shirt to your torso, a couple sizes too large; the sleeves, too long and frayed at the cuffs which extended past your fingertips. Your frown was obvious when you were not provided a bra, your breasts rather obvious beneath the fabric. Fortunately, there was an off-black cloak provided to protect you from the wind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The shoes you were supplied with were brown and unpolished, clearly meant to be hiked in, and you wondered how soon they would be transporting you today. You could only pray they would have you walking the whole way—although it would be torturous, it would be easier for you to make plans for a getaway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When fully changed, you returned to your sitting place against the back wall, but this time, there was something in the way you moved, a confidence in yourself that was so lovely to see. You wondered how this short transaction with Cadet Jennings over the last ten minutes had ended this way, a newfound determination blooming in your belly to not be ruled by fear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>How many times in your life have you been faced with a difficult situation like this one? A year in the Survey Corps was far more difficult and petrifying than anything you had ever experienced before. So right now, you chose to face your fears, conquer them, for how else were you going to make progress in life? You would not be molded by those who wanted you conveniently placated, and you would not shy from the battlefield they created. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Your heart was beating faster, your fingers tingling from an excess of adrenaline, for you were a warrior at heart. You weren’t as physically strong as you once were, but you have had time to study your captors, time to build a relationship with one of them, and hopefully, this move to another jailhouse would provide an opportunity for you to escape.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Faced with adversity, you had an ability for calm and rational thought—to you, that was a blessing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You could see them in the shadows of your mind; the female captain and her teammates, the calculations behind every move they made. The captain, specifically, was a technician of a chess player, but so were you. With her stature, she had to invoke fear in so many, using her position to every advantage, and you understood her. The fear she once reigned over you was ebbing; not yet fully under control, but it was reducing little by little.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You decided you would not back down; you could not turn tail and let their accusations hold firm. There was a weakness in the way she postured, and you would prove her Achilles heel. You were a Scout afterall, one who learned from the greatest tacticians known to man. You simply needed to remember these teachings.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A deep exhale escaped from your lips, the pain in your ribs slowly numbing itself away as you tried to focus on what was really important. You mindlessly rubbed at the rope burns along your wrists, wondering just how close you could have been to the ocean by now if your plans hadn’t fallen through. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At this point, there was no turning back, no farmhouse to return to once this was all finished. The Fairfax’s and Goodish’s had probably seen your house by now, assuming you had fallen to a fiery death. It made your heart clench in a potent spell, but you couldn’t weep now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was still business to be handled, monsters in this world to escape from, ones far more dangerous than any titan you had ever seen. You refused to let your life end in a series of losses.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Everything just felt so heavy. Like he had been thrown into the deepest, murkiest waters in the world.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One minute, Eren was hiking to Krolva. And the next, he was floating lazily along the depths of an ocean cove. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He couldn’t help but to learn every reef and cave by touch, the darkness having altered the lines. All of it was so peaceful, so pure; it was a nearly indescribable feeling. The essence of the water burned through his skin. There was no need to breathe or see or smell or taste, just the desire to feel.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eren heard the demand to forget, and when he dove deeper into the water, the pressure in his head flared rather vividly, and he did forget.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He couldn’t help but wonder if this was what it was like to die.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was peaceful, sure, but there were so many things he still had to do, so many things to fight for. His whole life, Eren only ever knew how</span>
  <span> to </span>
  <em>
    <span>live</span>
  </em>
  <span>. There was no time to be exploring the new reaches and crevasses this opening into the bay created. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So with newfound awareness, he opened his eyes and roused himself from a heavy slumber. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was first aware of the position he was in, slumped rough against a tree. There was an uncomfortable heat radiating from his skin, and the coolness of the air did little to soothe his fever. The ground was lumpy with a loamy fragrance, his clothes as damp as the grass at dawn. He half-wondered if he was still dreaming, emerald eyes lifting lazily to take in the shafts of light that burst through the gaps in the canopy above.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow. Do you look like </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eren could feel his heart nearly skip a beat. He knew that voice from anywhere.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He went to brush the length of his dark hair away from his face only to recognize his hands had been tied in an intricate knot around the tree at his back. He didn’t struggle, settling on lifting his head to reveal an inscrutable expression—one that was so dispassionate, it almost sent Jean rearing with resentment:</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? Not even a ‘hello?’ After all these years? I always thought your mom would have taught you better than that,” he lashed out, hoping his low blow would have some sort of effect on the stoic figure before him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Eren remained as stony as ever, emerald eyes lifeless as he scanned his surroundings. He knew this place, the way how even the thick wind felt pleasant against his skin, but in the haze of his exhaustion, he couldn’t quite put his finger on the location. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The fresh air and the greenery born of the shrubs to his right come together in their own ballet dance. To his left, vines clambered up wooden poles on the edge of a plot of land, one meant for farming. Bovine-like sounds echoed in the distance, but he couldn’t tell from what direction, his heart finding its place amongst the nostalgia that was the farmland he had left just a day ago.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His attention returned to his longtime frenemy, Jean Kirschtein, who was currently sitting cross-legged before him, looking more and more pissed off by the second. One hand was splayed along the cap of his knee and the other was curled into a fist as a platform for his head to rest on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eren’s gaze grew sharp. The brunette seated across from him did not come here alone; the sleeves of his jacket bore the Wings of Freedom, the emblem of the Survey Corps. He was here on a mission, and Eren wasn’t sure how exactly they found him, but this situation was the epitome of convenience for him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Afterall, they were the ones who he promised to return his titans to when his time was up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where are we?” His voice was smooth, just powerful enough to make Jean’s bones feel like they were vibrating. Everything about Eren unnerved Jean, from the way his blue-green eyes glowered in silent threat to the nonchalance of his posture. That rope he and Connie had taken the time to tie generously around the tree was truly as pointless as Jean thought it to be originally.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eren could easily get out if he wanted to, he was simply choosing </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>to do so. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really? You don’t recognize this place?” The exotic slant of Eren's bottle green eyes narrowed considerably, boring harshly into Jean’s features. “You...</span>
  <em>
    <span>you bastard. After all you’ve done, you seriously don’t know where you are?”  </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jean's</span>
  <span> voice seethed, rage hissing through his body like a deathly poison the longer he stared, screeching a demand to release everything in the form of unwarranted violence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jean bolted upward to his feet, shoulders hunched and shaking with each ferocious wave of fury. His head hung low, light-brown tresses hiding the towering anger the more he thought of Eren's uncaring appearance. His fists began to clench and his jaw rooted itself firm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It...It was all his fault. Whether he was the direct cause of this tragedy or not, he didn’t care. In the end, the asshole had been asking for this beat down for </span>
  <em>
    <span>four years now, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and Jean was gonna be the one to give it to him. With eyes squinted tight, his wrath consumed him, engulfing what was left of his moralities and destroying the boundaries he had promised Hanji he would set. She should have never trusted him to keep watch of Eren—she should have known this would have been the result—.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jean.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His tawny eyes flew open, brain stuttering for a moment when he felt a hand clasped hard on his shoulder. Everything was frozen, and he suddenly realized that in the time he had become lost in his anger, he had towered himself over Eren and threw one solid fist directly at his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eren’s face was turned ninety degrees to the right, his features calm and resigned under that impenetrable mask of his. He had dodged Jean’s punch, a single emerald eye watching from the side while he awaited the next move. Jean withdrew his hand from the tree, noting the specks of bark which dotted his skin and the blood oozing from the knuckles. Out of the hope that punch would make him feel better, he felt nothing, only disappointment in himself for losing his cool so easily.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The hand on his shoulder brought him back to earth, but it was not like it was magic. He was still blowing hot. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right now isn’t the time for this,” Armin stated softly, watching as the taller man brushed past him to saunter off in the direction of the shrubbery—anything to get away from his embarrassment, Armin figured.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sigh that escaped Armin’s dry lips was slow, as if his brain needed that time to process what had happened. His blue eyes remained fixed on the path Jean had fled down before shifting to face Eren. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was no time for Armin to study his former best friend. He simply drew a knife from his pocket, Eren cocking an eyebrow in response. With one quick motion, Armin released Eren from the rope's hold, apologizing quickly for having to take such precautions, “We weren’t sure if you would try to run, but since you didn’t shift, I’m guessing we can trust you to stick around? You were outside Krolva looking for us, weren’t you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Still as sharp as ever,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Eren noted, nodding his head idly in response. Armin hadn’t changed much since the last time Eren saw him, perhaps a little more mature-looking in the face and confident in his voice, but still the same. There was a reservedness about him, something that had stuck with him since they were kids, like a conscious choice to observe the lie of the land before he got involved. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We found you unconscious just outside the valley, maybe a couple hours from (y/n)’s farmhouse,” he supplied. A hand was extended before him, one that wasn’t meant to show friendship, but simply a natural subconscious reaction of Armin’s he always performed whenever someone wished to stand and he happened to be nearby. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If Armin were to be honest, he would have let Jean get a few punches in if this were any other situation, but time was of the essence, and Armin held little tolerance for things of that sort.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eren accepted his hand, fully aware of the lack of warmth of Armin’s voice and the shiftiness of his eyes. Armin clearly couldn’t stand to be anywhere near him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly, something clicked in Eren’s mind, green eyes narrowing with mild contempt. “How do you know of (y/n)’s land?” And as though struck by lightening, he went completely still. The puzzle pieces morphed together, and a wave of utter shock flushed through his fingers and toes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His nostrils flared and engulfed the smell of the dry hay in the air, and with it his brain flooded with pictures of you. Your face was just as pretty as the first day he saw you, your eyes twinkling with laughter and your teeth glistening when you smiled freely just at the sight of him. His heart felt like it would burst through his chest, leaping with an emotion he had never felt before. Was it excitement?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Armin’s ocean blue eyes were wide with surprise at the sudden change in Eren’s disposition—for the first time in many years, he caught a glimpse of the old Eren he once knew as a child, the passion-filled one where he could read every emotion on his face like a book. Eren loomed over him, his stomach dropping when the tall brunette suddenly turned on his heel, moved around the tree, and observed the wooden skeleton of the farmhouse that once stood tall just a day ago.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eren…” Armin tried, but was immediately silenced when Eren’s shoulders suddenly hunched themselves over.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Thirty seconds passed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is she..?” His voice rumbled darkly, muffled by the collar of your father’s jacket.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We didn’t find remains of a body,” Armin informed him quietly, completely baffled by the intense sentiment Eren expressed. What in the world had happened between Eren and you in the last month to make him react in such an emotional way? “Three days ago, we left from Karaness when we heard you were found staying here with her.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eren’s gaze did not waver once, and Armin could only imagine what exactly was going on in his head. This was truly one of the most messed up situations he had seen a while, something he had never expected to happen, especially to someone as sweet-natured as you. From his perspective, he was able to navigate most of what must have happened over the last couple days.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was obvious this was the work of the Military Police. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They had come just after Eren departed (y/n)’s home for the Survey Corps, most likely to return his titans to a place he knew they would be safe. It was truly an extremely unlucky situation, and Armin couldn’t help but want to kick himself for not trying harder or making a greater effort to protect you from danger. It was just that he never expected Eren to leave you alone like that, or even care this much for you in general... </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Was Eren not just using you and your home as a place of refuge then? Did he not know the MPs had informants in all corners of every region watching for him?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But only one question left him truly bewildered, and the clues were scattered in his mind like a maze:</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Exactly what were you to Eren?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before he could voice this question, however, Armin could sense the blood drain from his face when Eren finally turned at last to face him. There were no traces of tears, no track marks, no reddened face. He had never seen a look of such pure...</span>
  <em>
    <span>rage </span>
  </em>
  <span>before in his life. His emerald eyes were narrowed, rigid, cold, hard. At that moment, Armin knew he was already far away in another world.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His lethal stare felt painful and piercing, as if his glare was tearing Armin’s heart apart with a blinding teal light.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where is she.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Armin gulped. It was not posed as a question. It was a demand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That one thing that left him confused, that one question he wanted answered was suddenly lodged in his throat. In just those few seconds, he had it all figured out, and Armin instantly felt terrified for anyone who made themselves an enemy of Eren’s.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You were the love of his life. Eren didn't know it just yet, but Armin could see it so obvious and plain in the way his shoulders trembled and his mouth twisted into the worst scowl for those who dared to harm you.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eren would do anything to get you back.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>After writing and re-writing and re-writing this chapter, I FINALLY present my beautiful readers with what I like to call: a plot! Hahahaha holy moly this took lots of hours of focus and ripping my hair out, but 10000 words later (my longest chapter yet :O), we have what is a little bit of build up until our ultimate reunion between our cute reader and Chad Eren! Like wow, I've been planning this for MONTHS now and seeing it come to fruition is super cool and super exciting! </p>
<p>Please forgive me for the late update! Things have been a little hectic at my job and I really wanted to make this chapter as perfect as I could for you all, because honestly, you guys deserve every bit I have to offer and more. I am still so utterly stunned by the warm reception, and I am so thankful for everything you all have done for me and my confidence in writing! I love talking with you all about my story, so please leave me a comment, and we can talk about whatever you want! My personal favorite is when I can gush about Chad Eren (have ya'll seen the S4 trailer that just came out?? Bruh I'm so excited, Eren has a ten-pack and my brother legitimately called me just to tell me he's going gay for Eren LMAO) I love you all so much, and I can't wait to see you in next week's chapter!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Keep moving.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A long pole was pressed intimidatingly against your spine, its silent threat encouraging you to upgrade your shuffle to a short stride. Your feet slipped outward on the wet autumn leaves as you rounded the corner of a boulder, the cold evening air shocking your throat and lungs as you inhaled deeper, faster. With each footfall a jarring pain throbbed ankle to knee, ankle to knee.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t expect much from the cripple, Anthony,” someone said, but you were far too engulfed in keeping pace to pay much attention. “The horses will drag her the rest of the way if she falls.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your wrists itched beneath thin restraints, tied off by a rope that kept you secured to a mobile cart a few metres ahead. You had already stumbled numerous times—missteps when your prosthetic seized up against cramping muscles—and paid the price with countless slaps of a pole by the soldier behind you. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Just keep moving,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>you repeated for the umpteenth, the mantra that had kept you going for this long. So long as you kept moving, the damage would be limited mostly to your shins and knees.</span>
  <em>
    <span> “I’m good, I am. Let them think I’m weak. It’ll only make it easier.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Your heart pounded overwrought in a frantic attempt to keep up with your legs’ demand for blood, hardly an ounce spared for the cramping organs in your abdomen. Sweat trickled down your back, free flowing like condensation on a window pane. It beaded on your forehead and left a glossy shine, highlighting the contours of your features. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The mountain they had you climbing this evening was a pathwork of green made even more varied by the shadows of passing clouds. For quite some time, you contemplated your current location, puzzled the moment you stepped outside of the jailhouse to find yourself surrounded within a dense thicket. You couldn’t remember where this place was located in Blackstone Valley, tracks snaked in all directions around trees, each path well-worn but narrow and broken with knotted roots.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your captors rode horses in a long straight line, nudging you along the skinny footpaths of the mountain. In minutes, they were guiding you up the steepest trails they could find, pushing you to your limits. It wasn’t until you turned the corner to a worn series of cobblestone did you recognize this place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was your valley’s namesake: Blackstone Mountain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yeah. You had traveled here a few times before with your father on trips to the lake during the summers of your childhood. Branches overhung the path in their quest for more sunlight, an archway of green that in any other situation would leave you reeling with wonder from its magic. It was a little overgrown since the last time you were here oh-so many years ago. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But what was the purpose of traveling up the mountain? </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Thud. Scrunch. Thud. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Your boots continued their pace, hips popping when you placed more pressure on stiff, unsteady joints over favor of exhausted muscles. They were the only things keeping you going at this point, and if it weren’t for the promised break, you thought you might pass out from the pressure in your lungs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You surmised the purpose of utilizing the mountainside for the jailhouse was to keep criminals far from civilization—it would be easier for them to control you since escape would be impossible without using the trails. The drop-offs were far too steep to leap down and the trees were too tall to climb without any form of ODM gear or rope. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your gaze was unwavering and resolute, (e/c) eyes surveying the number of men and women atop horses roughly spread a short distance apart. Your introspective nature left you locked in thought, having counted about twenty Military Police members escorting you to the lake just ahead. It was a sizable number of guards, practically overkill when it came to arresting a young woman but necessary if they had come across Eren Yeager.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It would be difficult to escape such a substantial number of guards, all of which trained expertly in human behavior and how to neutralize threats, and it would not be problematic for them to keep watch over you throughout the night. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But something told you they lacked the experience of camping outdoors.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sudden coldness of the air only crispened your resolve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Over the last few days, you had seen these soldiers in action, more than half of them fresh out of the training academy and looking considerably lost the longer they spent time away from their homes within Sina. There were only three officers, all of them older and around your age, who unsettled your steeled nerves. Two were gorilla-like, male squad leaders with reliable experience, and the final was the female captain who spent most of her time strategizing with them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>These soldiers were stronger, faster, and smarter than you could ever be. They outnumbered you and no matter how much you sought out assistance, what you needed would never come. They solely lived to tear you down over these last few days, utilizing torture techniques straight out of the same old playbook—dehumanize, destabilize, antagonize.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But their greatest error was mistaking your quietude for surrender.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps at one point you felt disheartened. Not anymore. Now there was only determination, hushed and subdued, always hoping for a respite from their storm.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were brave. Experienced. Your motivation only soared the moment they lit your farmhouse up in flames, and you would not stop until you could thrive in the face of victory, the freedom of escape. You knew this land far better than they did. Those pigs were just pretty boys and girls in uniform, shipped in from the nicer end of town. They were all young, cocky and obsessed with their titles, easily bored by this escort mission when they truly only came in hopes to meet one of the most famous men of the continent. It wouldn’t be difficult to fool them, not to mention you had a friend amongst their ranks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cadets!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your attention was drawn to the scene before you, the small path widening into a multicolored beach with every size of rock—from boulders big enough to sit on, to grains that would stick between your toes. Small expressions of astonishment fluttered in the air from the soldiers surrounding you, their first time seeing the abandoned campground and its lake so flat, the far shore was a thin line that grew into a sheer cliff face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We will be spending the night here. Urek Squad will be tasked with setting up the tents. Roy Squad will begin with collecting the horses and depositing supplies. My squad, come see me—.” The captain’s voice was a strident timbre dictated by countless orders, boots stomping as the cadets dismounted from their horses. There was a palpable excitement that buzzed through the charged air, infectious grins shared amongst the youth as they followed their orders for the evening. Once they were finished with chores, it would only be relaxation from there on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You stood completely still, unsure if it was alright for you to fall over from sheer exhaustion just yet or not. After the heat and itchiness of the hike, the lake looked like a basin of balm. Its water was entirely without motion; no tide brought it up the beach, just as you remembered from your younger years. Despite the relentless sun rays, the green-tinged water would be cool, and the basin would likely be as deep as the mountains around were tall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oi.” A crack of the pole sent shivers raking your spine, wide eyes gazing through long lashes to find your personal escort, Anthony, staring impassively at your still form. “Looks like we’re stuck together for another few hours, so try not to make this difficult, Cripple.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You nodded your head mindlessly, lips pursed from mild displeasure at the nickname they had created for you. Your revenge would come soon, however. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patience would prove itself to be a virtue in the end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your obedience was rewarded with a few large, much-needed gulps of lukewarm water from his canteen, and shortly, the rope was untied from your restraints and you were brought closer to the lake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The spontaneous outpouring of emotion from his fellow teammates had no effect on this kid, who chose to follow orders wordlessly rather than whoop and holler at the idea of going for a late night swim. He guided you along the waterline just as his captain instructed him, making a beeline for the coniferous trees casting shadows along the shore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Words were slipping from the young soldiers’ big, lousy mouths and they were laughing like swine as they worked to unload their supplies off in the distance. You studied the backside of the boy ahead of you, curious as to why he was less than enthused and more focused on his duties than anything. Perhaps he didn’t like the lake? Or maybe it was just his nature?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Something tells me he’s seen some terrible things,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>you suspected. There was something of a warrior in him, which was why he was entrusted with the task of watching over you. In a way, it reminded you of Eren when he first came to your farmhouse all those days ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your heart panged with a mind of its own at the thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No. Not now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In minutes, he had you stand at the edge of the grove by what was once a pine tree, its sides shaved by a saw from whoever was here years ago. There wasn’t much to threaten a traveler in the woods, except perhaps the occasional bold bear or wolf pack. You frowned slightly at the thought but became distracted by your gasp of relief once you were finally given the chance to seat yourself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your breasts kissed your knees, visibly rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. Your lungs felt like they would burst and your throat was so dry, no matter the amount of water, it would forever be parched. Sitting back against the tree, you peered quietly at the cloak adorning your form, tattered from the crack of the pole against your back. You couldn’t tell if there was blood but the sharp stinging sensation was undeniable, so you kept yourself leaning forward in hopes your skin could begin the healing process.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know why the captain thought it would be good to stop here,” Anthony stated from a few paces to your right, his back shielding part of his comrades in the distance. You couldn’t see his face from the ground, but the way the curve of his jaw tightened told you he was currently clenching his teeth.“If it were my choice, I’d have us moving until midnight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You shifted uncomfortably in your place, and it was not from the itchiness you felt when old pine needles poked through your trousers. You chose to ignore the cadet’s grumbling (another red flag of disgruntlement amongst the MPs) and evaluated your surroundings, convinced that if you could find a way to release yourself, there would be a chance you could escape.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oddly enough, the cadet hadn’t bothered to tie you to anything stable, his attention solely focused in the distance on something you couldn’t pinpoint. Your wrists were secured in front of your hips—it would be easy enough to leap on his back and choke him out if necessary. Perhaps your obedience had fooled them into thinking you wouldn’t fight back? Or maybe he felt confident in his ability to subdue you if necessary?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your gaze drifted quickly to your left, the edge of the conifer treeline extending all the way around the lake in one large circle and back to the main trail you had originally entered from. Beyond its length was a steep, rocky scree slope, decorated with loose rubble you could only assume was consistent all around the lake. There was little chance of survival for anyone who might consider sliding down it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Drifting back to the right side, you quickly turned down any ideas of escape with a small sigh. Beyond their campsite was another trail on the opposite side of the lake, one that would be unreachable unless you had the stealth skills of a ninja. It was far too populated to attempt slinking through their ranks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silently, you turned to peer back at the trail you had originally entered the grove from, and deliberated possibly sneaking along the treeline to depart down the trail you had come—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t even think about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cheerlessly, you returned your gaze to find a look almost as bleak as your own, the cadet staring down upon you from the tallness of his nose. “What was I thinking?” you challenged him timidly, sure to remain reserved in the face of your captors.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s a reason the captain had you placed over here, and not just because it’s farthest from the exit points.” Your eyes narrowed slightly in thought; yes, you had picked up on that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was smart without a doubt. By utilizing the mountainsides, she kept you entrapped without the need to use spare hands in keeping watch over you. There were two escape routes: the first, a suicide run straight through their base camp; the second, another long run to the trail you had entered originally.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If she picked this holding spot for you, but not because it was furthest from the exit points, then what other reason was there?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anthony’s deep blue eyes watched as your lips twisted into a deep scowl, eyes slowly rounding out from their black look in realization.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>...Oh. </span>
  </em>
  <span>There was a reason Anthony wasn’t carrying a gun—they couldn’t risk you stealing and using it against him. All he needed to keep you at bay was his whipping pole, because he wasn’t the only one watching you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“—I mean, don’t let me stop you if you wanna run. It’d be good target practice in all honesty, so if you’re willing to give us the experience, be our guest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yeah, they’d mow you down the moment they saw you running.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your focus soared off into the direction of the campsite and particularly fell on what looked to be a pair of sharpshooters giving Anthony a thumbs up. It was the signal he had been waiting for, so after returning the gesture himself, he plopped his bottom down on a nearby rock and stared at you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’ll be a few hours before nightfall, so it’s best we get comfy with one another.” And as if he hadn’t been beating you for the last few hours with a pole, as if he hadn’t just wished death upon you so callously ten seconds before, he introduced himself in the most nonchalant manner possible. “You can call me ‘Anthony.’”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your eyebrows creased downward and face grew tense, bewildered by his rather psychotic mood swing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We could play the quiet game, too.” He not-so subtly lifted his arms and shrugged, his head shaking slowly back and forth while he clicked his tongue with slight disapproval. “I just figured it’d be more fun if we had someone to talk to while the others live it up over there.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sitting with thin arms wrapped tightly around your knees, your head fell forward and (h/c) strands cascaded delicately over the curve of your shoulders. You weren’t particularly in the mood to appease his boredom, preferring to brood and languish over what you were going to do now that both routes of escape were blocked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seriously, it’s just me and you. There’s no reason to pretend like we don’t like each other anymore.” He bent at the waist to grab a rock, crossed his one knee over top the other, and skimmed it over the lake. The splash was loud, ripples fading slowly from the poorly thrown pebble. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pretend?” the word tumbled past your lips naturally before you had the chance to stop it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, maybe you don’t like me,” he responded immediately, almost too calm for his own good. “I have to admit, though. I do quite like </span>
  <em>
    <span>you.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hand rushed upward to brush away a few strands of short dark hair, but your eyes drifted before he could finish the action. No wonder he didn’t seem to get along with his comrades; he was rather strange for a person.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He continued his statement with an eye roll when he noticed your sudden uneasiness, “Don’t take it the wrong way; I don’t think it’d be possible for anyone to find you attractive, not to mention you’ve got that chunk of wood you call a leg. But your background is rather fascinating. I mean, how many Scouts does one get to meet in their lifetime from before the Rumbling? Not very many, that’s for sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You released your hold on your shins, your focus trained on the lake’s serenity. After nearly a decade of knitting, crocheting, and sewing, your shoulders rounded forward and slumped, a product of the tortures of your hobby. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You tried your best to ignore him with a happy memory. It came as divine </span>
  <span>déjà vu</span>
  <span>, sitting in your synapses for a moment and resetting your darkened mood to sunny days ahead. The lake before you was a staple of your childhood, now abandoned by the citizens when it was rumored a gang from within Wall Sina had taken refuge within the mountains. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a good spot to fish just across the way where carp and large-mouthed bass swam within easy casting range. Your dad was a solid fisherman who knew just where to observe for fish rising, always preferring to use a leader with three flies attached to its end. Somehow, that gene was never passed on to you because no matter the effort you put in, you could never catch a fish. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, you’d prefer to thread his lines for him, sitting in the grove amongst riots of cow parsley, ragworts, buttercups, white clover, and oxeye daisy. You remembered your dad would always find you covered in several ticks by the end of the day, chastising you every time for being so careless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The trips to this lake were few and far between on the rare days your dad had off from his work. It was something for him to pass the time—he always preferred to release the fish back to their habitat immediately after reeling them in:</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I wouldn’t want to take them away from their families!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Or so he said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That memory sustained you for a moment, carried you through this challenging time of loss and reminded you that your love was important and worthwhile. Slowly, your eyes scanned over to the right and your lovely brow creased once more in the cadet’s direction, who was still observing you carefully in the final rays of sunshine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So tousled by the wind, your hair lied loose and untamed, the light reflecting in diffuse bands that changed when you altered your posture. Your shoulders remained curled, a stature drilled down with the sense of being on full display. Each of your fingers were laced together, holding you together amidst the desire to appear fragile under his scrutiny.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe it would be good to spark up some conversation with this odd boy? What was the harm in further searching for more clues behind your capture?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your captain…” you started off apprehensively, noting how the cadet’s features lit up like  you had stoked his flame, “she’s quite the terrifying woman. Do you like working under her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was calm, cold; of a singularly serious and self-contained demeanor. “I’d rather not talk about that scornful lady. I’m here to listen to your story, Miss (L/n).” He didn’t use your nickname this time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You winced from the sharpness of his tone, frustrated with your poor analysis of his character. He was by no means chivalrous, yet adventurous withal. It appeared he had only volunteered to keep watch over you out of strict inquisitiveness of your history as a Scout. If you were to learn anything, you would need to tailor your questions around his interests.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I would love to share my story with you, Cadet, but wouldn’t it only be fair to exchange questions?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You talk as if we’re friends spending a day at the lake,” he laughed ominously, gesturing to the whipping pole below his feet. “What makes you think you’re in the position to be making demands?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you did say we should use this time to get comfy with one another, and hitting me is only going to make me lose my voice faster,” you challenged with the cock of an eyebrow. “I’m sure you know this, too. I can already tell when you’re making empty threats.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If his navy blue eyes could puncture holes in you, you’d be a slice of swiss cheese by now. You studied his features idly, noting the largeness of his nose and hollowness of his cheeks. His face would have been stern if it weren’t for the humor that lurked about his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Besides, I thought you liked me?” you finished. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let out that snarky laugh of his once more. “I guess I did say that, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You didn’t offer a response, choosing to focus your gaze once more to the lake. The sun sat threatening to dip behind the horizon, firstly cascading a prim bombardment of colors that were flung over the sky with terrible eagerness. The receding blue and oranges battled the blackness pushing it away with arms. It shone on the lake below, shining upon it with a radiant glow that scintillated and beamed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ever since you were a child, you wondered what it would be like to swim in its depths. It was the finest of mirrors, never showing exactly what was above, but converted it to an image so beautifully smudged and broken. It was transient, changing by the day, but that was what made it all the more precious in your memories.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You could walk here every day and always it would be both different and the same. How pretty it would be to fall beneath the surface...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fall beneath the surface.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beneath. Beneath the surface.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was an explosion in your brain, the type that carried more possibilities than you could be conscious of, but there were hundreds of ideas there that buzzed of electricity. Your answer to your problem was lying just before you, and whatever ahead would be a great challenge. There could be tears, but it was the best and only option you had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You watched the cadet to your right who was once more engulfed in skipping rocks, negligent of the sudden upturn of your pleasing features. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“There are more than two paths out of here.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>A giddiness left you rearing slightly from sudden vertigo, your muscles and various wounds aching from the immediate rush of blood and anticipation skimming your body, but you had to wait. Your mind was like a butterfly, constantly fluttering back to the realization you had, but there was nothing that could be done now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You would have to wait for nightfall. That was when you would make your next move.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>A single brow arched high upon her forehead when Hanji returned from the bathroom to find only </span>
  <em>
    <span>two</span>
  </em>
  <span> of her five people present and ready for travel. Momentarily, the commander shifted in her boots, disappointed when the action could not qualm her sudden rush of restlessness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re still not back yet?” She questioned, shoulders sagging when she received a prompt shake of the head from Armin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a dramatic bleat one might consider to be characteristic of a goat, she sprung into the front seat of her newly purchased wagon, patting at her pockets to ensure she hadn’t lost anything. All she could do now was wait, and with that, Hanji’s energy seeped through her like an ink stain on blotting paper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wow, did she feel </span>
  <em>
    <span>drained…</span>
  </em>
  <span>like one of Levi’s used tea bags she’d always find piled up in his trash. The pace of her day suddenly came to a screeching halt, and oh, how she despised waiting—it was what made her such a terrible commander at times, but a ruthless researcher when she was working in her lab.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In this case, however, there really wasn’t much she could do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a brief moment, she pinched her nose and sulked at the memory of practically handing over the entirety of her funds in exchange for this cart. If it weren’t for her swindling talents and the minor blackmail she subjected the previous owner to, she would have had to send Jean and Connie to hunt the countryside for the remainder of their meals.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t have much of a choice, for the wagon was the only form of readily available transportation she could find. But hey, it did come with some stellar cup holders! And the owner swore the six-passenger ride was the smoothest in the West!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanji tilted her head, the sun gleaming brilliantly upon thickly-rimmed glasses to hide her sinful expression, lips curled upward in a villainous smirk. Ahh, yes. She only hoped she hadn’t ruined that </span>
  <em>
    <span>kind</span>
  </em>
  <span> gentleman’s day, threatening to tattle on him when she caught him cozying up to a young woman, presumably one who was not his wife. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well...it wasn’t Hanji’s fault he was doing it so carelessly in the open—saved her quite a few bucks in the end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanji was driven from her thoughts when she felt the wagon sink beneath her, its odd creaking—a product of the added weight of two extra passengers—a little discomforting in her ears. She allowed a single brown eye to trail backwards then, her weary and skeptical gaze shielded by thick, unkempt strands of dark hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her second-in-command grunted when his tensed biceps finally relaxed, clumsily placing his saddle beneath a wooden bench. Both his and Hanji’s horses were now harnessed to the front of the wagon, luckily well-trained in driving carts. Hanji only had Levi to thank for recommending the last minute change—it was best to be well-prepared for any surprise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And let Hanji just say...this sudden turn of events was </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> a surprise worthy of the ages.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If only Levi had snuck some extra coins in her purse! But the man was as cheap as he was short...tempered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span><em>Sigh. </em>Rustic cabins dotted the grassy hills as trees stood up like spikes, zigzagging the border of dirt roads and unpolished homes. Rivers streamed through the valley, and Hanji couldn’t help but to watch as flocks of pigeons gathered everywhere. Their numbers delighted her, and she wished she had some crumbs of bread to feed them or maybe a camera to take a photograph. Her inclination toward the pigeons differed from the locals’; the birds were considered nuisances and treated as such. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She could only hope her team members weren’t being treated in the same manner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Originally, the plan was for Hanji to acquire some form of transport for their new passenger (which happened to be this wagon) while the others searched for evidence on (y/n)’s location from the local Garrison members. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>However, the Garrison uniform was few and far between the residents, so after questioning the locals, it was determined the majority of their police could be found drunk as a colony of skunks at the town bar. Unfortunately, the town was a labyrinth of roads with miscellaneous stores and residences that all met up at a piazza; nevertheless, it didn’t take long for them to locate the local bar, and within it, the Garrison holed up and hiding from the headache of sunlight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She figured it’d be best to leave that mess for Mikasa, Jean, and Connie to clean up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it had been about an hour since they broke apart for their individual tasks, and Hanji could only wonder what was taking them so long. With a sigh so powerful it paralleled the wind, her chin collapsed upon her open palm in a rather eccentric fashion. “Sounds like we’re getting the silent treatment from our brothers in arms. What do you think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Armin sent one long stare into the back of her head, the wheels in his brain mulling over the information his senses provided before he answered, “I would think they wouldn’t mind sharing a few tidbits of information with us, but something tells me Mikasa probably has a few of them choked out by now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ehh? How troublesome.” She released a sound that could easily rival any famed bird of prey, her nose scrunched in an almost aquiline way. “They were paid to keep their mouths shut if that’s the case. But the MPs should know it only makes it more obvious they’ve got our cute little (y/n) locked up in one of the Garrison facilities,” she stated in a tone Armin could only describe as mockery. Like putting on a show of satire, her arms waved dramatically before a single hand momentarily rested on the frame of her glasses. “What else could be the reason? It’s clear they’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>torturing</span>
  </em>
  <span> her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Armin’s mouth peeled open ever-so slightly, ocean blue eyes sending his superior officer a warning with a side glance. He had the air of a befuddled and terrified child, as if Hanji had taken a stick and poked at the monster hiding under his bed, just to see what it would do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that was exactly her intention.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Wake up, you wild stallion,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>she thought, briefly overcame with triumph when the wagon suddenly shook beneath her. Hanji’s lips curled upward to reveal the most wicked of appearances, her body whipping around to find her former titan test subject rising ominously to his feet from the back of the wagon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sinister tilt of his emerald eyes sent shivers down her spine, and that was all she needed to confirm his affections for Hanji’s former squad member, (y/n) (l/n). </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ahh, please forgive me, Eren. I forgot you were there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Armin could see the false confidence in his commander’s eyes, the way how she used her wit for gathering information. Her comments were clever and insightful, albeit a little crass—it was with that little test she knew she could trust Eren to stick around long enough to assist in the operation to rescue their old teammate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going in,” was all Eren muttered before he shifted to hop off the wagon. His jaw clenched taut to match the rigidness of his body, angled in the direction of the bar just across the street.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“W-wait just a minute, Eren,” Armin started off in an unconvincing tone, stepping closer, but he kept his distance from his former friend now turned unwilling comrade. “We can’t risk your identity being discovered! Trust that Mikasa and the others can handle the Garrison.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren paused in his position, and Hanji could hardly fathom what Eren must be thinking in that moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had almost forgotten the sound of your voice,” she commented, releasing a breath she didn’t know she was holding when Eren’s attention returned to focus on her. “Sounds deeper from what I remember. Really goes to show just how old I’ve gotten over the years. Why not sit down and have a chat while we wait? We both might learn something from it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her voice was soft and welcoming, the best front she could put up for her former underling. If Eren knew any better, he wouldn’t even think about taking matters into his own hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She could feel his annoyance seething from those impossibly green eyes of his, but to an outsider, Eren looked as calm as ever, almost uncaring of everything around him. Quietly, Hanji pondered if Eren was considering shifting into a titan right then and there—it would be so simple for him to just level this whole village and find (y/n), himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But instead, his fingers drew themselves inward to dig at his palms, and he was seated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She once more released an exhale that carried the weight of the world, so heavy and taxing. A bead of sweat trickled down Hanji’s forehead from the stress, and she took that time to assess the titan shifter she hadn’t seen in years.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hair was lazily ruffled, the brown tips haphazardly pushed so they intertwined into beautiful chaos beneath the hood of the Survey Corps jacket Armin provided him. It was quite the ironic sight, but necessary for Eren—his identity would only serve to stir suspicion amongst the villagers of Blackstone. An uproar would draw attention to their group, alerting the Military Police when they had worked so hard to keep themselves as elusive as possible.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So.” Hanji flexed her stomach muscles and swung her legs over the head bench, nearly kicking Armin in the face. Her hips turned a full 180 degrees, fingers interlaced to offer a platform for her head to rest. A single chocolate eye bored deeply into the side-profile of the brunette before her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span> “—Are you still wearing your hair in a man bun nowadays, Eren?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Armin sweat-dropped, nearly choking on his own saliva with stupefaction. Only their commander would act so casual around Eren despite the gravity of his return. Was she trying to tease him? Was she trying to dispel the tension in the air? Armin was baffled by her bizarre question, but years of knowing Hanji told him she never acted that way unless she had a reason for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren did not offer a response, appointing his dark focus on a shop in the distance. “I personally still like the look, it’s got a boyish charm only you could pull off,” Hanji continued with a thoughtful hum before abruptly snapping her fingers in realization. “Oh? Do you need a hair tie, Eren? I always carry a few spares with me—.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you want, Hanji?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The voice was unexpected, low with an agreeable trace of huskiness. Eren briefly spared her a glance before returning his gaze to the same spot, and Hanji used that time to survey their surroundings. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The town was what a village became with no city planning and a great enthusiasm for architecture. Every building was different, borrowing this and that from another material. It made the place as glorious as a beloved grandmother’s quilt, every patch unique and as eye-catching as the one before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Armin and Hanji silently noted Eren’s fixed stare on one building, a bakery, to be specific. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fairfax</span>
  </em>
  <span> was inscribed in cursive along the windows, a converted cow barn with a corrugated roof that was rustic on the outside and perfection on the inside. The blonde shared a look of intrigue with his commander, unsure of what to think of Eren’s sudden pensive fascination with the bakery.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only the obvious,” Hanji answered, sending Armin a knowing look on the side as if to ask: </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Did Eren ever have a sweet tooth?”</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Armin could only shake his head, blond strands falling gently in his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t ask about the past—what’s done is done. What I need to know right now is if we can trust you,” she continued, although she wouldn’t mind picking his brain in the near future once this whole debacle was over with. “Your cooperation with us so far has been rather...impeccable. So I guess what I need to know is if this is all really as simple as you’re making it out to be?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few seconds passed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t understand your question,” Eren lowly grated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She perked a little from his response. “How so?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you mean to ask if you can trust me with this mission, I will tell you I am acting upon my own free will,” his face was resolutely unimpressed, emotions dancing chaotically in his eyes. “I’ll do whatever I have to for (y/n). Whether you tag along or not does not matter to me, but if you’re worried I might destroy a Military Police camp by the end of today, then you sorely underestimate my anger.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stared as if he’d just produced a cow from his pocket, and her brain sparked, desperately trying to connect the dots before short circuiting—. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh no.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>What disturbed her the most was that there was no heat in his voice, his threat spoken so casually, it shook her to her core. For Eren, whatever means he used would be justified so long as he received his intended result; it was simply his way of doing things:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll tear down the entire countryside if I have to, and anyone who tries to stop me, I’ll drag them to hell with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carefully spoken, without drama, his words had an air of finality to them, and no matter how hard she might consider railing against them, nothing would change his mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Hanji wasn’t sure how else to start, especially after such an intense proclamation. She had yet to hear him say so many words in one sentence, and clearly Armin hadn’t either because he was sitting as still as a cadaver and just as pallid. “That was…a very sentimental declaration of love, I think? In all honesty, Eren, I suppose you could say we’re on the same page.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He casted a side glance in her direction, and it was almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>freaky </span>
  </em>
  <span>how his emerald eyes seemed to smolder from her response, hard-staring and never blinking. Eren had perfected the look of nonchalance over the last few years... She made a mental note to joke about it later as an opening line to one of her stand-up comedy gigs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanji narrowed her eye, unshakably dogged, but there was an edge of humor in her tone. “Of course, what Commander of the Survey Corps would I be if I didn’t ask that you keep your aggression under tabs? Don’t forget, your actions will be held under scrutiny by a court of law, that is if they catch you.” Her chin sank deeper into her fingers to hide her growing smile, amused by her sarcasm. “And they might just sentence you to death for it—.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her shoulders trembled and cheeks puffed at her poorly written joke. How perfectly funny it would be to think Eren actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>cared</span>
  </em>
  <span> about what the MPs could do to him. She cackled rather noisily, drawing the attention of a few bystanders until Armin had to hush her. “Ah, sorry, sorry!” she rambled off, obviously uncaring and showing no ounce of regret from her outburst. Armin could only shake his head for what felt like the millionth time. “But the deeper question lies within what happens beyond this mission! So let’s make the assumption we fail, not saying we will, but just entertain my hypotheticals like you always do, Eren—.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her voice lowered, for what she was about to say should be discussed with tact, discretion, and even with compassion. God knew she had enough practice of those three things in her years of the Survey Corps. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she would still be a traitor, watching and listening for the flicker of an eyelid, the tensing of hands and face muscles, anything that could further hint at Eren’s intentions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She observed him with hawk-like precision, speaking a little more softly:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Worst case scenario, and I hate to say it, but we might find her dead and you should be prepared for what we might come across. If Armin’s hunch is right, which it rarely is ever wrong, they will have her held under the charge as one of your followers.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She waited with bated breath, scrutinizing each of his features for any change in the scowl he normally wore. Hanji noted his shoulders straighten themselves out ever-so slightly, mild in aggression, but when combined with deep love, she would call it passion for their power existed in perfect combination. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Eren did not speak, she continued, “But the Premier is far too engulfed in the extravagances of trial, so I’m certain that would never happen. Even so, let’s say they employ an interrogation tactic that was just a little too rough on her. In the end she could not be saved. What I need to know is what you’re going to do if that happens? Can I trust that you won’t run off on us again?” They had just gotten him back. With less than a month to live, he really didn’t need to be searching for vengeance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thing was, Hanji had always been able to read Eren like an open book. She could comb through his thoughts and evaluate his emotions without much difficulty because there was once a time he kept them at the forefront. But for so long now, she had misinterpreted his actions, his words, his expressions, as if he’d been speaking a language she couldn’t understand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was practically dead, and for many years, she struggled with where she had gone wrong with him, her student and titan test subject who was kind enough to let her ramble on about her research when no one else would. Perhaps she had placed too much pressure on him when the young man was clearly in a spiraling state of depression? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanji remembered one of her final memories with him and reflected on her visit to Eren after she incarcerated him for his vindictive actions in Liberio. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>How... </span>
  <em>
    <span>insane</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>guarded</span>
  </em>
  <span> he appeared from the influence of his Attack Titan on his stability (which she didn’t know at the time), how mortified and worried she was for his health. What Eren had done of his own will was ineffable, but Hanji suspected his actions were guided either by Zeke’s influence or by some secret, unspeakable ability he refused to share with anyone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Many years later, she wondered that if she had possibly tried harder that day with Eren, he would have felt comfortable sharing his knowledge and thoughts with her. Somehow, he knew at that time that the only optimal solution to ensure their survival was to commit the unthinkable act of genocide. All of his friends had seemingly abandoned their faith and trust in him, too... If only she could have gotten him to share his worries with her, then things would have turned out different, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanji paused for a moment before shaking her head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No. She couldn’t be rough on herself about something like this. It was simply impossible for them to find a timely solution to protect Paradis from the rest of the world. Eren acted of his own accord because somehow, after she eventually surmised his Attack Titan could see into the future, he knew waiting would only result in an outcome he couldn’t bear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both suffered from the same situation. They both wished they had found another way together, that much she was sure of, but the difference between them: Hanji was not ready for a new war, especially one so implausible; Eren was. So there they were, fighting each other, both crushed by the world in a race for answers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So why was that right now, even at a time like this...she couldn’t help but to take the blame for everything that had happened? It was either succumb to Eren’s wishes and allow him to destroy the remainder of humanity, or stand up for what she believed was right, even though it was all futile for Paradis in the end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somehow, no matter her decision, she couldn’t help but to wish Erwin and Moblit were still around to help guide her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Four years since the destruction of humanity, and here she was now, staring at the one person she thought she’d never see again. Eren answered her last question in that adult voice of his, expressing his allegiance to the Survey Corps now that his days were coming to a close. Was this perhaps a second a chance for her? A chance to redeem herself?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanji could only nod her head, mildly engulfed in her thoughts. Should she share her and Armin’s theory with Eren just yet? No, that would be saved for another day, preferably after they saved poor (y/n)—.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“COMMANDER HANJI—oh shit, go, go, Go, GO, GO!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her gaze flew to her left just in time to see Connie waving his hands sporadically in her direction, feet pounding on the tarmac as he turned mid-stride to see if his two companions had exited the bar after him. His head bobbed loosely from side to side with each footfall and his eyes looked heavy in their sockets when he charged in the direction of his horse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Connie??” Armin shouted. Hanji took no time to follow his order, spinning in her seat to grab the reins and flick their wagon into motion. “Where’s Mikasa and Jean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re coming! It was just so crazy, I had to get out of there! Jean was talking—but some poker tournament started!—then next thing I know—OH! And then Mikasa went full tilt! I don’t know what I’m saying, man, WE GOTTA GO.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Armin smacked a palm to his forehead, puffed his cheeks, and took a seat before the cart could throw him out. His blue eyes went wide when he saw both Mikasa and Jean suddenly burst through the wooden swing doors of the bar, knocking them off their hinges.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where are we booking it to, Connie?!” Hanji bellowed out, dodging a few stationary produce stands in the process. The citizens of Blackstone Valley could only stand by and watch with gaping mouths when they nearly plowed into the monumental fountain of the square, a maniacal laugh escaping from Hanji's lips as a coping mechanism for her sudden stress. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The jailhouse!” Was all he said before a rather girlish scream ripped from his throat. “Don’t ask me right now, I’ve got bigger problems!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Armin could only watch in the distance as Jean leapt athletically onto his horse from the backside, Mikasa close behind and a group of farmers chasing after them with steak knives and, much to everyone's displeasure, even a </span>
  <em>
    <span>pitchfork</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “What in the world?” he mumbled, heaving a sigh of relief when their final two members pulled away from the disgruntled townsfolk. Even Eren looked shocked by the sudden turn of events, standing stiff as a rod and fists taut, the hood of his cloak billowing wildly over his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, crew! We’re gettin’ the hell out of here!” Was all Hanji shouted, a little too thrilled for her own good. In just a matter of a few seconds, her energy spiked and her whole body enlivened with electricity, no longer bored by the prospect of waiting. There was no time for her to be lost in thought! She could only hope the Garrison’s jailhouse wasn’t in town...they’d have a lot of work ahead of them if that were the case.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She kicked her drivers into high gear, tickled pink by the sudden rush of wind when they navigated their way out of town. Finally, the pace of her day sped back up to full force, her blood coursing vividly through her fingers and toes. Her determination rallied with anticipation for what was to come next, something she grew to love after years of neglect. This trip was turning out to be one of the most exciting of her lifetime, and she could only hope it would all finish out with a bang.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hang in there, kiddo,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>she hummed to herself. You probably didn’t know it yet, but they were coming for you, and Hanji had a great deal of faith in you. If you could tame a beast like Eren Yeager, then surely, you could hold out long enough for their arrival...maybe even find an escape on your own?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All Hanji knew was whatever came next would be the secondary climax to this mission, the first being their reunion with Eren Yeager. After eight years, she brimmed at the thought of finally being reunited with the last living member of the Fourth Squad. She couldn’t get ahead of herself, however, for there were far too many unknown factors yet to be tailored in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the results would be <em>so </em>worth the risk and effort! You were quintessential to the success of this operation, afterall. Eren was far too untrustworthy on his own, but his attachment to you could prove beneficial to Hanji and Armin’s plan if they could utilize it appropriately. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not to mention, the entirety of their squad couldn’t just standby and leave you with the warped minds of the Military Police.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanji could feel her shoulders settle from their tensed position, signaling her freedom from the confines of small civilization and left to embrace the countryside breeze. For some reason, she couldn't help but to fret over how crucial this rescue mission was truly turning out to be. </span>
  <span>She would have to let Eren do whatever he needed to if it meant he would stick around long enough to let her plans come to fruition...  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It could save so many lives, perhaps even Eren and Armin’s own from the Curse of Ymir if her hunch was right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So in a way, it all came down to this. Rescue her former squadmate and ensure Eren’s faithful participation, or fail and risk the potential of watching everything blow up right in her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her head curled to the right to peer silently over her shoulder, finding Eren's frame hunched over and his elbows folded along his knees. He had the appearance of someone living in patience, but she'd be damned if she thought his patience to be true. That man was <em>mad</em> and no matter what face he wore, he couldn't hide the way his emerald eyes burned with pure disgust. </span>
  <span>Whatever connection he felt with you, Hanji needed to support and nurture it in all its glory. It was the only thing he had keeping him tied to this Earth right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Hanji would do <em>anything </em>to ensure her final mission as Commander of the Scouts a success.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ah, a mediocre way to end this chapter. I loved the way how the first part of Ch 9 turned out, but there was something about writing in Hanji's perspective that made it difficult for me to appreciate the second part! Maybe it's because I haven't written an Eren monologue in FOREVER, and the more I talk about Eren, the more I want to tell you all exactly what's going on through his head! But no...I must...save it...for the madness to come in these next chapters! Aghh!</p><p>So next week is officially my vacation week! I plan on taking these next two weeks to reread my story, read some other fanfiction, maybe reread the manga, and just rebuild my love for Eren because it's dwindling a little now that I haven't seen him in the manga for a hot minute! In the end, I'll probably end up rewriting the second part of Ch 9 at some point and reposting it hahaha cause that's just how crazy I am about making this story the best for you all! I think this will be a good break for me to help freshen up my mind a little bit, so as a final note: I WILL NOT BE UPDATING NEXT WEDNESDAY! </p><p>I have a VERY good feeling about these next two chapters, and I hope you all can look beyond my sluggish pacing! I will tell you all this over and over again as many times as I can, but I am so freaking grateful to have you all as my readers, because I never thought I was that great of writer for the longest time! You all have been so supportive, and I can't thank you all enough for lifting me up during such a dark time in my life! I hope to see you all in two weeks, and if Ch. 9 suddenly looks different next week, just know I probably tweaked the wording in the 2nd part, but the overall plot is still the same LMAO I'm gonna go eat some food: Goodbye! :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The stars were nonexistent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Between you and the sky arose puffs of gray clouds, balls of cotton shifting into streams, the color of ash and soot. They blanketed the night with a hazy, ominous feel, hiding the moon in all its glory. A tiny frown rested uncomfortably on your lips, almost begging for the clouds to disappear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Light would prove itself to be essential to your escape.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You could tell your anxiousness was getting worse, particularly when the wind blew more keenly in your eyes; it was that tearless stage when they took on a sheen of water and a tension built behind them. You were all keyed up, and the weight of all your concerns, worries, and anything else that could go wrong with this plan coiled tightly in your stomach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now was not the time or place for tears, but it was only natural for one to feel apprehension of the unknown in a situation like this. The more anxious you became, however, the more developed your rationalization of the whole scene. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anthony mentioned he would be replaced by Cadet Jennings soon, and unbeknownst to him, Jennings' presence was a great victory for you. Jennings' trustworthy personality would serve to make this easier. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yeah, your fear was nothing at all—less than a trap of fine gossamer thread. Anytime your mind attempted to present a new obstacle, you gabbled and sorted out an agreement, as if you could force a positive outcome by sheer brilliance of thought. It was what got you through so much in the Survey Corps, what made you a survivor. Whether it was absolute luck or unadulterated bravery, you could not answer, but you liked to imagine it was a combination of the two.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With hips pressed back against the shaved pine tree and shoulders hunched forward—a position you’ve maintained for the last few hours—you breathed a mild sigh of relief for the time to gather your thoughts. Anthony had </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally</span>
  </em>
  <span> ceased his questioning about thirty minutes ago, half-heartedly toying with a handful of rocks in his stout palms. The clouds continued to shift as blackened shadows, and now there were times they moved just enough to reveal the moonlight. For the most part, this night would be without the benefit of silvery light, but you could work with what you had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, from the corner of your right eye came an artificial blaze, a lantern perhaps. Your legs drew up quickly, faster than a bullet into steel, heart pounding audibly in your ears. Funny. Once the darkness of night was complete, there was nothing more terrifying than light. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It grew in size at a steady pace, the halo blocking your view of the holder’s face. His long-legged and lanky silhouette was all you needed for identification, however.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anthony?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rigidness of your spine relaxed at the sound of a timid voice, and from the blackness emerged Cadet Jennings in all his glory. His gait was a little odd; it was slightly lurching as he went, as though he were leaning too far forward. It had the effect of making him stand out and not in a good way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was about time they sent you.” Anthony’s voice was neutral, and whatever disdain and cockiness he exhibited when alone with you had left faster than the blink of an eye. “The cripple has got the personality of a rock, and I’m exhausted.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was no secret his presence put a strain on Jennings, but the kid knew how to hold his ground when faced with difficult people. He decided not to comment, offering Anthony his second lantern to navigate his way back to camp for some much needed rest and food. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your keeper leapt off his pedestal eagerly, taking a final moment to allow his dark blue eyes to scan your curled up form. “Try not to look so pitiful while I’m gone. I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” he said. His gaze had a look of long yearned mischief beneath bagged lids.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You had no plan of seeing him </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever</span>
  </em>
  <span> again after tonight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peering lazily up at the sky once more, you chose to ignore his words and rub at the pressure ulcers forming on your wrists. They were bound so tight, you were beginning to lose feeling in your fingers, and if someone didn’t take care of them soon, your skin just might take the opportunity to expose its inner layers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a mild wince, you continued to distract yourself with the clouds, which were now swooping into the air like an armed patrol. There was nothing more the moon could do but sit and wait for itself to be completely engulfed by its attackers, and even the shadows were swallowed by the encroaching darkness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps it was best for there to be no light, because it offered you cover and the privacy of inspecting your wounds without the need to see them. You knew the welts along your arms were finally beginning to heal, but the wound that worried you most was the great purple contusion decorating your right side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a shaky weakness to your legs whenever you lifted your hip flexors or flexed your calves, but those were nothing compared to the chronic throbbing of your abdomen. On impulse, you flexed and reared silently from the spasms. Once you get yourself moving, hopefully it would find its rightful place in the back of your mind when it really mattered most.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Miss?” Cadet Jennings skipped the greetings, peering clemently in your direction with eyebrows furrowed and a frown set firmly along his lip line. He had the eyes of dove feathers, you noted, the ones with a hue so softly gray that they could have been pencil drawn. “No offense...but you’re looking a little worse for wear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You blinked once, and like breathing for the first time all week, your casual smile was freely given. “I guess it’s just been a really long day, Cadet.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a tenderness of the soul you let show through, something that could make a real connection, for you no longer had to hide behind a mask. It was the release valve you </span>
  <em>
    <span>both</span>
  </em>
  <span> needed, because Jennings shoulders hunched forward for the first time all day with relaxation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, right… Sorry, I forgot they had you walking the trails today,” he stated and proceeded to scratch sheepishly at the back of his neck. “You can call me ‘Jennings’ ya know? ‘Cadet’ just makes it feel like I’m speaking to my captain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your eyes swept the premises, not a single soul for another two-hundred metres. “Is that your last name or your first name?” You questioned, tapping into your conversationalist side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“N-nobody calls me by my first name,” he rushed to answer with a stammer, piquing your interest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could see your smile was one of happiness growing, much as a spring flower would open—it came from deep inside to dimly light your eyes and into every part of your features. “Well, now you have to tell me your first name, Jennings.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You smiled with more than your mouth, and he heard it in your voice, in the choice of your words, in the way you relaxed. To know he had such a calming effect over you filled him with satisfaction, but he couldn’t let himself fully experience the emotion. Growing close to you would only prove itself to lead to something painful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was thankful for the darkness; otherwise, the pink dusting of his cheeks would have been on full view for you to see. “I-I can’t say it. You’ll just laugh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The roundness of your cheeks inflated even further from your weak chuckle. Eventually, you acquiesced and your lips rested into a neutral smile. “I guess I can’t promise I won’t laugh. Don’t worry about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence reigned and caressed your skin like a cool breeze, and before you knew it, your eyes were drifting back to the lake. You had to digress, </span>
  <em>
    <span>maybe </span>
  </em>
  <span>you were exaggerating your enthusiasm in hopes Jennings would consider you a friend. As nice as it was to share a conversation with someone who wasn’t filled with silent threats and warning glares, you couldn’t help the constant nagging in the back of your mind to keep your focus on the task at hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lake lied silver in the bright light of the moon, not a perfect ovoid like a looking glass, but irregular like an ink-splat on aging concrete. The motionless water ran right into the crevices, the soil stagnant upon the rocks. Around the edges were pines, chaotic in their spacing but never more than a few feet without a tree. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The best access point to the lake was directly in front of you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jennings?” you began, eyes flitting off in the direction of the camp when a scream erupted, followed by a chorus of laughter. Entangling your fingers in your threadbare coat, pressure filled your lungs and set you into a mild coughing fit.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cadet waited patiently for you to finish your sudden outburst, head tilted to the side with a perplexed gaze. He took the moment to seat himself by the rock his squadmate had claimed previously, gangly arms folding gently over bent knees. It surprised you to see him choose to sit at your eye level, dirtying his white trousers in turn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know it’s a lot to ask, but…” you hesitated, voice unintentionally modest and demure. Your gaze trailed downward to stare at the pine needles scattered haphazardly around your form. “Would there be any way you could release me from my restraints? Or maybe get me some new ones?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He drank up every word you had to offer, his thick eyebrows automatically sloping forward with obvious displeasure. “Um—well, I...I don’t think the captain…” his voice trailed off timidly. He was a fifteen-year-old, kindled and raised to please all in any way he could. You could tell it hurt him to have to deny your request, his words stumbling faster than his brain could comprehend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! I’m sorry!” You immediately shook your head, a smile (charming in his eyes, although you didn’t intend it) graving your ashen face. “I don’t mean to place you in a difficult position. It’s just I’m starting to get pressure ulcers is all.” You lifted your arms to show him the nonblanchable patches of your skin, signs of irritation caused by constant dilation of your blood vessels.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His shoulders slackened ever-so slightly, somewhat relieved you were such an understanding soul. “I see…” he answered with an expulsion of breath. “I wish I could help you, but...I can’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You nodded your head tenderly, the corners of your lips lifting into a magnanimous look. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The way his visage curled downward like a grimly carved mask made you wonder just what he was contemplating. Surely, he was well aware of your desire to flee far away from here, to vanish from their existence so they could never hurt you again. Had your rouse of obedience not fooled him? Could he see through your facade?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A shadow of pitying melancholy touched your lithe attributes, much like the clouds dimmed the waving of cattails scattered along the lake. You were beginning to feel a little bad for planning to use Jennings for your own benefit. You were honest in your request for new restraints, but something deep inside wished he would contemplate the truthfulness of your side of the story and rid the thick rope altogether to help you escape. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You couldn’t help the pang of selfishness you felt… If you were to flee on his watch, he would surely be deemed incompetent or potentially traitorous by his captain. Maybe it wasn’t for the best to have him as your watch guard? The best option you could think of was to possibly knock him out with a chokehold—at least they wouldn’t be suspicious of the secret fraternization you’ve had going on over the last couple days.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a short shake of your head, you brushed that idea away as soon as it came. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But how else could you escape? He wasn’t going to simply stand by and watch as you leap into the water and swim to safety. And even if you were able to get him to lend his assistance, the MPs were bloodthirsty individuals who would suspect him to be a renegade and convict him on your behalf.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> You could not stoop so low as to involve Jennings in your exploits. He had only been kind to you thus far and to betray him with self-seeking, heedless intentions would completely go against who you were as a person. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yet at the same time, your options were thinning out quickly by the minute. Were there any other solutions? For the most part, all you could do was continue to wait, but how much longer of this could you take? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For now, things were beginning to look hopeless again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meanwhile, Jennings simply stared at you, studying the bruises that decorated your willowy cheeks. He liked to imagine there was a beauty beneath those cruel purple welts, not beautiful in the classical way like their Queen Historia, but something uniquely stunning in your stark ordinariness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your eyes dipped like deep wells of compassionate gloom, and you were content with his vague answer, completely understanding in a way that wasn’t constrained, but actually benevolent. It was in that moment he realized you reminded him dearly of his mother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You probably didn’t know this, but overtime, he began to suspect you were cooking up an escape plan. What gave you away was how your eyes kept fluttering to survey your surroundings—you were well-versed in your environment, capable of utilizing and adapting to any situation with just a quick assessment. It was likely what got you through your service in the Survey Corps, he’d like to think. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He still firmly believed in the assumption he made this morning. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>did not look like a criminal, and you sure didn’t act like one, either. After hours of mulling over his father’s teachings, they enlightened him to understand you were most likely just a victim of collateral damage in all of this, and his empathy for you only heightened with that thought in mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But in the end, he could not help you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If they found out he was sympathizing with a ‘supposed’ Yeagerist, they’d probably have his family transported out of Sina and back to their piss-poor farmland in the North. He had made a lot of sacrifices to get his parents the medical treatment they needed, the life they deserved. If they removed him from his position with the Military Police for believing in what he thought to be morally correct, his family’s lives would be </span>
  <em>
    <span>ruined.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“—Not to be nosy, but I noticed you were walking a little funny earlier—” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He started at the sound of your voice, eyes trailing forward to stare at your pitiful, hunched form. Despite the numerous bruises and lashes scattering your body, you watched him delicately with a concern he felt like he did not deserve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You could easily sense his displeasure, your words an attempt to change the subject for the sake of his comfort. There was a steadiness to you, as if all the storms in the world were a whispering breeze if you were there. In the days he had observed and spoken with you, he determined you to be kind and clever, and maybe that was what drew any and all types of people to you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was as if you knew you were born to be a queen of the earth, one who helped others, used your brain to fix whatever needed fixing. There was nothing “princess-like” about you though, just a fierce independence and a motherliness, too… You were so firm in that way he was sure you were born like that, confident with the air of a warrior yet a renowned listener. He greatly admired that about you, a role model he’d be happy to shape himself after. He wished he had gotten to know you outside of these circumstances—.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“—are you alright?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In his short discourse on your character, he failed to recognize you were still talking. “Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you feeling alright?” Your eyebrows knitted themselves together. Perhaps you shouldn’t have spoken so casually to him upon arrival? He was growing paler by the second just staring at you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, uh—yeah. Well, not really, but I’m good,” he dismissed modestly. He half-expected to hear the sound of his mother’s disapproving voice, his head tilting downward. It never came, of course, but that didn’t stop him from feeling silently stunned by your comfortable presence. The look in your large (e/c) eyes immediately reflected the worry he expected of the people who cared for him most.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You waited patiently for him to expand upon his statement, your regard for his health enough to get him talking once more. This time, he spoke earnestly: “I’ve just got weak knees. The captain had us doing some heavy lifting earlier, but it’s honestly nothing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, if you’re in pain, that’s still something to be recognized. Is this something you’ve had going on for a while?” You questioned, your voice light and attentive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wide gray eyes blinked, cheeks wan and eyes like charcoal. “I guess not...it started about a week ago, I think.” His fingers knotted like cords in his lap, a secret question springing to mind, but he was quick to qualm his curiosity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, he listened intently as you explained the importance of taking good care of one’s body, how he shouldn’t be afraid to speak up if he believed himself to be injured. “There’s nothing wrong with admitting your hurt,” or so you said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t as simple as you made it out to be, but you didn’t need to know that. Showing weakness was not a favorable trait in the Military Police. It was best for him to continue overestimating his capabilities—it was how he got through training and his work. He considered sharing this with you, but he didn’t wish to upset you. As an alternative, Jennings nodded his head in agreement to speak up next time he saw his superiors.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“—Or it’s only going to get worse!” You explained as well as you could, unsure of what else to discuss. As of right now, there wasn’t much you could do other than appreciate the human contact. Your mind scrambled for ideas on how to rid yourself of Jennings, but the blanks you drew only made you feel powerless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The last thing you wanted was to get him in trouble...this problem was yours and yours alone. He had a duty to uphold, even if it was opposing your goals, and his consistent altruism proved to be far too innocent for you to mettle with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you say that out of personal experience?” You drew yourself away from your thoughts to find Jennings' face ardent like an out-looking star. His eyes flickered with sudden embarrassment then, mouth shaped into a circle. “Oh-um. Not meant to be offensive in any way…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your legs criss-crossed over top one another, a sharp pain tugging at your hamstrings. “I guess you could say that. I always had an issue with pushing myself too hard, but the reasoning is not as valiant as yours—I’ve just got issues with my pride,” you admitted with a small upturn of the lips. You were a hard worker once upon a time, but it soon turned into a battle with your self-esteem after you lost your leg. “Why would it be offensive?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just...your foot.” He scratched sheepishly at his cheek, eyes down-turned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My foot?” Your eyebrows lifted to hide themselves beneath your wild halo of (h/c) hair, mouth opened and hesitating before his words finally clicked in your head. “Oh! This thing? I guess you could say I lost it from pushing myself too hard, but not in the way that you might think. It had to be amputated after I got hit with a projectile many years ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At this, his curiosity was kindled. Gray eyes brightened fervently with a fascination for your history, reminding you dearly of a young Remi. “When did you lose it? Can I ask that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You immediately began to pick at your fingernails, watching as the short nubs turned red and angry from your constant prying. Wow, when was the last time you spoke about Shiganshina with anyone? Probably never, in all actuality. It usually was a topic everyone strayed from out of fear of stirring some kind of resentful memories up, but in all honesty, you didn’t mind talking about your past with Jennings. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a deep breath, you decided to entertain his intrigue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eight years ago at the Battle of Shiganshina.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything about him seethed excitement. “You told me a little about your time in the Survey Corps,” he said, his torso leaning forward. “Could...Could you tell me about that day?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s quite a long story, really,” you admonished him coyly, biting subconsciously at the inside of your cheek. In your early years of retirement, Shiganshina was once something that plagued your mind incessantly. You had never really taken the time to outwardly reflect upon the events of that day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t mind,” he answered immediately, but lifted his hands to wave vigorously in front of his face. “Don’t feel like you have to tell me, though! It’s just, they taught us about the battle in history class, so it’d be cool to hear it from someone who was there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’m honored. You’re very sweet, Jennings.” The slight glimmer in your eyes betrayed your genuine happiness to meet someone as agreeably pleasant as this youth sitting before you. It wouldn’t hurt to share your story with this young cadet; although, you couldn’t help the rock sitting in your stomach. Shiganshina only reminded you of the great loss the Scouts had experienced that day, despite the success in recovering Wall Maria.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure what they teach you all nowadays, so I hope I won’t disappoint,” you began shyly, unconsciously lifting your hands to twirl at a strand of hair. “I was once a squad member of Commander Hanji’s. You know who she is, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded his head firmly, gaze never straying from you. “Of course. She is the 14th and current Commander of the Survey Corps.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s right,” you praised him, puffing your cheeks briefly before continuing. “Anyway, we were tasked with taking down the Armored Titan, but the subsequent explosion that came from the Colossal Titan’s transformation separated me from my squad. I didn’t know it at the time, but Hanji and I were the only two of our squad to survive that day—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was the look that he gave you that made you pause briefly. Those pale gray eyes, probing into your soul, desperately wanting to see what was going on in there. He sat a fair distance away, listening to your words, and his compassion burned stronger than any pain that corroded your heart. It was with this look you recognized you weren’t alone in this, and he wasn’t here to judge or question. He just wanted to understand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I retreated back to the wall for further orders when I realized I broke my arm.” You tapped at your left forearm to offer a visualization. No longer able to hold Jennings' intense stare, your gaze turned to briefly scan the horizon for comfort. “But I was told to stand down. That was when the Beast Titan began hurling rocks and leveled the city on the other side of the wall. Many of my comrades were injured, so I took it upon myself to grapple them back up the wall—is any of this following what they taught you?” You lowered your head in time to watch him from the corner of your eye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Although, you’re being a little more brief than I hoped,” he admitted shyly. “But go back… You said you went back for your comrades? With a broken arm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You allowed your eyelids to fall, the memory of traveling up and down the wall far shorter than the actual time it took you to do so. You were floating. Flying. The smell of blood was heady in your nostrils, and now the memory was beginning to feel real. The screams, the devastation, the weeping—you remembered those details far more vividly than any excruciating pain you might have felt that day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At the time, I couldn’t really feel it. I was so hyped up on adrenaline, I couldn’t see straight for a while,” you excused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So was it around then you lost your leg?” He prodded hesitantly once more, oblivious to your sudden gloominess.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You nodded. “I was just about to pull my sixth wounded over the wall when my foot was nicked by one of the rocks.” You kept the explanation short, surmised in a way that fulfilled Jennings curiosity, yet protected him from how truly harsh the reality of war could be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What a bloody mess it was… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phantom pains quickly racked your amputated leg, throbbing deep and warm, but not in a nice way. All you could do was hold still and breathe, breathe slow and deep until it passed. When it waned, you remembered the image of your foot, barely hanging by a couple threads of skin, like a bomb had exploded. The bone was shattered beyond comprehension, and if it weren’t for the two conscious soldiers who wrapped up your wound, you surely would have bled out that day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s...incredible.” You were suddenly drawn from your thoughts, a look of utter surprise flitting over your features at Jennings fascination with your short story. “Despite all of that, you still found the strength to save your comrades.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In all honesty, you never considered yourself to be ‘incredible.’ Many were sure to call you a hero when they visited you in the hospital, but that whole day just felt like one big catastrophe. The real heroes had all died in Shiganshina, and you were just lucky; being lucky did not make you heroic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were simply driven by instinct, reacting and moving as if someone else were controlling your body that day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It's funny. I guess I never thought about it that way... I really only did it 'cause I thought that was what I would want someone to do for me, but I was being far too reckless,” you confessed a little reluctantly. “I really pushed myself too hard that day, but I’m sure you could understand the desire to help people in need. There was no reason for me to standby, and Commander Erwin didn’t seem to mind,” you said thoughtfully, trailing off as the memory clung desperately to the forefront of your mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Commander Erwin probably thought your actions to be pointless at the time, but it had no direct effect on their plans for the suicide charge, so he let it go. You were sure even he could appreciate your audacious actions and how things turned out that horrific, but victorious, day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You paused, taking a heavy breath before reasserting your smile. “It cost me a lot, but if given the option, I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.” Tapping light at your right boot, you pulled yourself out of the memory and began to massage your aching nub with both hands. Even after all these years, you could still feel the ripping sensation of rocks plowing through soft skin and flesh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jennings was silent, considering your words with sincere depth. His mouth hung with lips slightly parted, observing as you kneaded away at your old wound. Something deep within had him questioning his morality, why he even bothered to join the Military Police if all he was meant to do was send innocent, good people like yourself to your death. Of course he knew why...he did it for his parents. But how proud would his mom still be knowing her son had stood by as someone he considered to be a real hero was convicted of false treason?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He swallowed the lump forming in the back of his throat, unsure of who he was anymore. He sure as hell didn’t feel like a soldier, more like a puppet for the bureaucrats who cared less about the needs of their people and more about upholding procedural correctness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was this really what he wanted to do for the rest of his life?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice was soft when he uttered, “Why did you join the Scouts, Miss?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His question seemed a little off, alarming you with his solemn tone. He peered gravely at the toes of his boots, his face hidden by the shadow of the fringe of his bangs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Why did I risk my life’ is what you’re really asking, right?” You were honest and true with your words, watching as Jennings’ brain stuttered to follow your counter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You had a choice didn’t you?” His eyes bored deeply into your own. “We were offered great rewards for our families if we joined the Military Police. Was it not the same for you?” At the time, it seemed like a great deal, but he had no idea they would force him to carry out baseless acts of brainwashing and persecution against people.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your lashes fanned your cheeks briefly, unsure of what to think of this newfound information. So that was how desperate the Military Police was for recruits, huh? “Well, back when I was in the Training Corps, the Military Police only took the top ten recruits of each class, so things were a little different then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a sad conundrum, really. Most kids like Jennings probably didn’t know they’d be asked to abuse the power of the law like this. He probably took the deal to ensure a good life for his family, but the pained expression he was sharing with you spoke volumes about his character. Did he...did he regret joining the MPs?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t very strong back then. I didn’t rank highly, so I didn’t have much of a choice really. I had the option to choose between the Garrison, which was my original plan, or the Scouts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So why didn’t you choose the Garrison, then?” He questioned. You were briefly distracted by </span>
  <em>
    <span>another </span>
  </em>
  <span>scream and subsequent laughter from the campsite. Those kids seemed to be having a little </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> much fun tonight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes, I ask myself that question, too,” you said with a smile, lost in the memories of your past. “I was pretty lazy, only working hard when I thought it would benefit me, because all I wanted was to work on the wall near Krolva where I could stay close to my family.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jennings could relate to the sentiment, but something had happened to you to make you change your mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But,” you paused,“I met some rather interesting people in my time. They told me stories about the true beauty of what was outside the walls, the land we were entitled to see and take back from the titans. They reminded me of what my mom used to tell me as a child, the fables about the ocean and its vastness, and so joining the Scouts sort of became a paramount for me… I made a selfish choice and joined the Survey Corps in hopes I could see even an inch of what my classmates and my mom described to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watched you, awestruck by the story of your change of heart. If only he could do something similar, to gather his courage to do what he thought was right. The small tilt of his lips reflected his sentiment. “So did you ever get to see it? The ocean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No…” your voice was barely above a whisper, squeezing your legs closer to your chest. “No I didn’t.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somehow, this knowledge bothered you dearly. Why </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>you choose the ocean over your family? It all sort of seemed like a silly pipe dream now. Maybe if you had stuck with the Garrison, you could have spent more time with your father before his passing.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I can’t feel bad about something like that, though,”  </span>
  </em>
  <span>y</span>
  <span>ou thought. You’ve made many mistakes in your life, but joining the Scouts was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>one of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You didn’t expand upon your statement; Jennings didn’t need to know you were planning a trip for the ocean just before him and his squad arrived and burned your possessions to ash.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the kid was smart, having sensed your anguish, and guilt immediately crushed his being. He knew he’d participated in something pretty awful when he had to work so hard to justify it. The more demanding the reparations his subconscious required, the worse he knew it was. You were simply another human, living through all the ups and downs for your dreams, and he directly partook in taking that away from you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt his chest soar, wondering how someone as ordinary looking and humble as you could be so resilient in the face of adversity. Could he be the same way if he tried hard enough? Was it too late to take it all back?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head, remembering a question from before. “Did you graduate with the 104th Cadets?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your gaze stared longingly at the lake, something Jennings had noticed you’d like to do frequently. Was the lake special to you or something? Or could you simply not stand to look at him any longer? But then your consistently kind-hearted features drifted to give him your full attention, his fears quickly mitigated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did,” you answered simply, ready for another slew of questions this immensely curious and intrusive cadet had to offer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My captain…” he started hesitantly. “She graduated from the 104th in the North division. Did you happen to know her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The memory of the female captain interrogating you simmered in your mind. “I was in the South division, so I never had the pleasure before now,” you touched upon briefly, but something within you perked at the thought of learning more about Jennings' overly cruel leader.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was like the leader of a gang. Perhaps it was her instinct for cruelty that made the others respect her...or fear her. They knew if they didn’t do what was expected of them, they’d end up in the infirmary, or worse. She ruled with an iron fist, and whatever she said went. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you ask?” You questioned, brushing a lock of (h/c) hair from your eyes, feigning mild boredom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing important, really…” Jennings offered, his lips sealed tight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then he noticed the way how your shoulders collapsed ever-so slightly, your features falling when he refused to speak more on the subject. After all you had shared with him, he was now beginning to appreciate your story, and he even found himself hoping you could find a way to escape. He couldn’t do much to help; you’d have to take care of matters on your own, otherwise, they would take it out on him or his family.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he spoke. This was the best he could do for you. He wanted to see you thrive, to hear maybe one day in the future how you finally got the opportunity to dance in the ocean like you always dreamed. His voice became low with intent, capturing your interest as he leaned even further forward on his hands to share his secrets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I—only ask because...I have never seen the captain so angry with anyone until we met you. Are you sure you’ve never spent time with her, maybe in passing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No…” You shook your head solidly, bewildered by his words. “I don’t recall anything, I’m sorry,” you said sincerely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jennings felt his shoulders relax a little, his chin bobbing up and down in understanding. “It’s not my place to say, but…” He rested his back firm against the rock, his head spinning on its axis to assess his surroundings. What he was about to say was mere speculation, an observation he had made the one night the captain was going off on a drunken rant a few weeks back. “She sort of has a hate streak toward the Scouts, particularly against Eren Yeager and his brother from Marley.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your gaze meandered this way and that, unsure of what to do with this recent discovery. You couldn’t tell if Jennings was being naive, but the boy wasn’t the type to gossip from what you knew. His words were spoken in hushed tones, well-aware of exactly how much trouble he could get in for sharing the weaknesses of his teammates with you. A smile played on your lips before disappearing as soon as it came. You were sure Jennings was on your side, sharing what he could in order to aid you on your journey.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A hate streak? Did something happen?” No one was ever born innately evil. There was something that made her that way, much like what you suspected of Anthony when he treated you so scornfully. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I might be grasping at straws, but did you ever hear about what happened to all the old Military Police higher-ups four years ago on the day of the Rumbling?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your eyebrows furrowed, begging him to continue his explanation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pressed his palms flat against his knees, taking a deep inhale of air before casting you a sturdy look. “Many of them died in Shiganshina that day, every single one of her friends were turned into titans.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s so terrible…” You mulled over this incredible piece of information, completely enraptured in the motives of this onyx-haired captain who hated you so dearly. Was it all done out of vengeance? Retribution for her comrades and payback against Eren? You found it hard to believe someone of her caliber could react so </span>
  <em>
    <span>strongly</span>
  </em>
  <span> to hardship. She was willing to instill her reprisal on you, a complete and total stranger with no real connection to the awful fate of her friends.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Did she think your suffering would make up for the years of her own? You almost wanted to cry just thinking about it. She was so lost in her desire for justice, she knew nothing of what it truly meant. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what you’re saying… You think she’s only treating me this way because of my connection to Eren?” You conjectured, (e/c) eyes growing wider by the second. Like Jennings said, it was simply speculation to say she despised you for who you hung around, but her actions thus far proved otherwise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, she didn’t burn down your house just for fun of it...I think she enjoyed seeing you suffer, much like how she did at the hands of your lover.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Eren...what happened that day?"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, your mind offered an image of green eyes, every hue of the forest, rimmed cooly with moss. Their lightness reminded you of summertime, when the sun-rays warmed each extended leaf. Next to the shade of his hair, that deepest brown pulled back from his face, he was alive in the same way the birds were, stoic yet casually wild. Tanned skin, prominent cheekbones, and a well-defined chin and nose all combined in unison to create Eren. Your mind casually proceeded to offer memories of muscles rippled across every part of his body, athletic and broad and oh-so tempting to touch—</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Now wait just a minute. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Your cheeks were suddenly kissed pink like a spring rose, the blooming color cute if it weren’t for the nasty bruises beneath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lover?? You’ve got quite the nerve, Cadet,” you chortled awkwardly, looking away for any kind of distraction. You settled on dusting the pine needles off your thigh and ignored the pain in your stomach, anything to keep you busy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jennings hung back, allowing you time to compose yourself, fighting back the smile he wanted to break out. Once you’re settled, he spoke, “I didn’t hear you deny it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You scoffed at his insinuation, waving a hand forward to brush him off. “I wouldn’t say a one-sided infatuation for someone would qualify us as lovers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A tiny voice spoke up in the back of your mind, reminding you of everything you and Eren had been through together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t really one-sided, was it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes, it was best for you to think of things in that way. If fate meant for the two of you to be together, then you would. You didn’t get the chance to really explore your feelings all that well with your long-time friend, so it was best to keep your expectations low. At least the disappointment wouldn’t be so bad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Say all you want...” Jennings combated with a sigh, quickly growing bored of the conversation. He wasn’t particularly interested in discussing your love life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His head turned to the lake to see if he could spot what exactly had you periodically entranced throughout your whole conversation. In twilight, the surface of the lake was as smooth as black glass. He could almost imagine walking right onto it and skidding on the surface in his socks. It truly was a relaxing sight, a puddle of viridescent beauty during the day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jennings.” A voice filled with life drew his attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your face was fully eclipsed by the clouds, making it somewhat difficult for him to read you. You had changed positions to sit with your legs tucked beneath you, hands clasped together by the ropes holding you hostage. It was an odd sight to see a someone so brutally beaten and shaken down smiling at him, but you made sure he knew just how great of a help he had been, rescuing you from cruel indifference during such a dark time in your life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me,” you said with an air of finality. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t sure how to answer, settling for a nod of his head before brushing the strands of dark hair away from his face. You probably didn’t know it, but by rescuing you, he was rescuing himself too.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>The rest of the evening was spent chatting idly with Jennings about his family and life back home. Eventually, you succumbed to the pressure of the weight on your eyes and slumped back against your conifer tree in a deep slumber you never thought possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wrapped in profound sleep, you dreamt of fishing with your father, but instead of being in a boat on the lake, you’re standing on a pier extending far from land and into the salt chuck sea. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In your slumber, you were a child again, dreaming of things past and future. In your dreams you had comfort, freedom, and love, and for those perfect hours of sleep, you felt whole again for the first time in a while.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t long before you awoke to the sound of an ear-piercing scream, however.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was the kind of scream that made your blood run cold, and immediately, you're awake and sitting forward without a trace of drowsiness. It pierced your brain and ignited some primeval pathway, heart thudding like a rock rattling in a box. Your fingers curled around a rock to your side, an unbreakable grip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment, nothing happened. You scoffed a little promptly thereafter, annoyed with those teenagers over at the camp. Couldn’t they just settle down for the night? They’d been fooling around far more than you liked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then another scream came, and boy, </span>
  <em>
    <span>what a yell that was.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It made the hair stand straight up on the back of your neck, something created out of wild panic. It was a scream of hysteria and disbelief, bordering on terror and briefly you wondered if titans had invaded the camp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You blinked a few times, aware of how completely ridiculous you sounded. You always associated a scream like that with the titans, one so piercing and loud, you were sure someone was being eaten alive. But that would be impossible. Those mindless titans were wiped from the face of the earth years ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your whole body was on edge, waiting for something, </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything </span>
  </em>
  <span>to happen. The moon was now open on free display, offering a glow for you to observe the distant campfire. Jennings had finally lurched to his feet by the second scream, his skin clammy and limbs rigid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then you saw it, a pillar of fiery smoke and dust, boiling up quickly from the largest tent present where the rations were kept. It was violently agitated by the wind, and next came a brief flash, lifting and spreading the incandescent smog. Your jaw unhinged itself, watching in absolute shock. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holy crap,” you heard the cadet mutter from beneath his breath. He didn’t move an inch, completely still as he surveyed the scene playing out before him. His comrades were just beginning to emerge from their tents, their slow shuffles quickly morphing into frenzied sprints. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You watched as the flames raged quickly, changing from red to violet and back through the spectrum to red again. Geysers of hot ash and molten rock spouted upward; some of the white-hot debris landed in the lake, decorating a few others tents with flame.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All you could do was observe with devastation as the youth began to scramble, your eyes trailing to scrutinize Jennings and his hunched, shaky shoulders. Briskly, he sensed your staring and turned to face you full on, his gray eyes gleaming wide with upset:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s going on??” He practically yelled, his whole body jumping when a rifle was set off in the distance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know!” You told him honestly, a little stunned from the gunfire. It was almost like he was accusing you of something, the way how his body hulked and his face twisted with contempt. Once he heard the lilt of candor in your tone, though, he nodded his head in understanding, facing the madness that was now ensuing. You thought you could hear him talking about bandits under his breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You couldn’t blame him for his sudden suspicion; this had to be a rather terrifying and emotionally-pressing event for him. It was easy to point blame when in the heat of fervor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shakily climbing to a stand, you leaned your side against the tree to watch the scene with awe, wondering how exactly the explosion was caused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They need me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your eyes pierced into the back of his skull, knowing full well what that meant. “Do you want me to come with you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jennings shook his head, peering over his shoulder to reveal that the child-like kindness of his face had quickly morphed into a serious expression. No longer was he the stuttering and timid boy always pestering you with questions. He actually looked like an adult for once. “This...This will be your escape!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He suddenly whipped out a pocket knife, rushing to your side so he could begin filing away at the connection between your restraints. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing?? Won’t this get you in trouble?” You nearly shrieked, pulling back but that was just what he needed to break the rope and release your arms from one another. The ropes around your wrist remained tight, but at least you could utilize your upper body to its full extent now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you want to get out of here?” He yelled, stepping back to give you some space.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, but they’re going to know you set me free!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At this point, I think we’ve got bigger fish to fry, Miss (Y/n),” he gestured to the scene transpiring behind him, just in time for your eyes to catch sight of a few cadets running to throw buckets of water on the fire. Few were lying injured on the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You didn’t know what to say. How to ask what made him change his mind. How to show exactly how thankful you were for what Jennings was doing for you right now. Your mouth remained agape, watching as Jennings reached forward to ruffle your untamed tresses with a single hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can repay me by seeing the ocean,” he offered you a full-on grin, a row of crooked teeth revealed. You had taught him a lot about what it meant to be a hero, and he was ready to begin atoning for his mistakes right then and there, starting with you. His comrades needed him, so with that, he was turning on his heel and running back in the direction of his camp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You stood in silence, watching him run with that weird lurch of his (but honestly, who were you to judge?). You were moved by his declaration, but right now wasn’t the time for tears. You paused momentarily, allowing your arms to swing gently by your sides with relief. This was exactly what you were waiting for. Jennings had given you the chance for your escape, and now was the time to take it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So with that, you’re up on your feet and running, a limp characterizing your right leg. With wide and desperate eyes, you didn’t look back, hands balled into sweaty fists. A few short bounds later, your arms and legs locked up in a rigid form, propelling yourself with great momentum. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You leapt into the water like a hunted stag.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Surprise! I'm back! Part 2 of this chapter will be coming out TONIGHT! Someone set off the flares and buy some s'mores cause we're gettin' CRAZY now! Hahahaha Chapter 10 was UNBELIEVABLY long, lemme tell you...I figured it would be best to trust my judgement and separate it into two parts because this is definitely a lot of information to take in, and I don't wanna overwhelm you all with such a lengthy chapter! I'll see you guys later tonight though, so bring your swimsuits cause we're going for a late night swim T.T</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. A Continuation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Your breath came in small spurts, hot and nervous, but the water was quick to shut down whatever notion of warmth you felt in that moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was cold, </span>
  <em>
    <span>unbelievably cold.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The water bubbled into your mouth and seeped in your clothes in less than a second, stealing the heat from the soles of your feet all the way to the follicles in your scalp. The heat had run to your core to shelter and hoard the warmth that remained, and for this long lake, in this wintry-like cold, the frigid iciness was your nemesis.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You wanted to dive in cleanly leaving no splash and cleave the water with powerful rhythmic strokes until you reached the other end. What happened in your imagination never turned out that way, however. Spray flew outwards by several feet and your limbs and face stung, then with flailing splashy strokes, you slowly progressed beneath the water to kick your legs like a frog.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t stop. </span>
  </em>
  <span>You repeated over and over in your head. The bottom of the lake was far too deep to touch, and with your muscles exhausted from your previous excursions of the day, your swimming would be hindered. If it wasn’t the cold or the MPs to seize you in the water, then surely, pure exhaustion would be your end. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every fifteen seconds, your head would bob above the water for air before diving back within its depths. Despite the screaming, gunfire, and flames rippling in the corner of your vision, your focus was solely directed on moving forward. With mild interludes on how </span>
  <em>
    <span>freaking </span>
  </em>
  <span>cold it was in between, of course.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You didn’t bother to thank whatever miracle had started that fire, and vague thoughts of worry took over when you fretted that the low temperature would make your muscles give up. Crossing this lake full of such freezing water was a compromise: you had to be fast enough to not become hypothermic and steady enough not to sink too far under.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The water surged around your skin which was rough with goosebumps, pointless as they were. Your blood was almost frozen in your veins and briefly, you spared a glance along the lake’s shoreline. There was no one. You weren’t sure how that explosion was set off but took it as a sign that your end wasn’t meant to come this soon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right now, you were swimming for your freedom, your right to live. Sporadic thoughts laid waste to your mind, and it was the memory of your fallen comrades, those who had sacrificed themselves for your survival, that kept you kicking. You owed it to them to persevere, and there was no greater reason you could think of at this moment. The ocean was waiting for you, the fields of fluffy sand and warm salt water. Warm water…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Damn, you were just </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For what felt like hours, you swam in a strange mix of a doggy paddle and the breaststroke, head bobbing up and down, eyes frantically scanning the shore for any sign of people. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your brain was just beginning to shut down when you finally pulled yourself to shore, that like a snake dragging its slow length along the sand, limbs shaking. The water was cold enough to make your lips blue even </span>
  <em>
    <span>with </span>
  </em>
  <span>non-stop swimming.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pressing your forehead against the warm ground, you coughed and considered falling asleep right then and there, but you had to keep moving. Surely they would be looking for you soon; they definitely noticed Jennings at the camp by now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Briefly you glanced backward to assess the distance you had swam, approximately four-hundred metres. To move in such three dimensional space, to swim in that lake would have been close to the joy a bird felt to fly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right now, you only felt like </span>
  <em>
    <span>death.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>And what came next would be one of your most difficult tasks yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“P-please, let me live,” you said aloud to no one in particular, climbing stiffly to your feet and throwing yourself forward with even greater abandon. Your lungs and heart were pumping, but the air didn’t seem to be enough as you moved forward, panic trembling in exhausted legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You head straight for the trail, your prosthetic locking into place but not even that could stop you. Water dripped from every surface it could, and the lashes on your back were too numb to feel sore against the sticky fabric of your clothes. Immediately, you shed yourself of your cloak and toss it to the unknown.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pushed beyond all endurance, you continued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s going down the trail!”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>...You’ve got to be kidding me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>They must have spotted you in the lake and laid chase instantly. How did you not see them from the water?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your stomach suddenly churned and you fought the desire to vomit. Shaking your head in disbelief, you pushed onward, knowing there was no point in stopping to hide. They would be on you in minutes, and with the aid of artificial light, they’d navigate this land far better than you could in the dark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Find her! The least you all can do is complete the mission. Our objective has not changed!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And if things couldn’t get any worse, the voice of the Military Police Captain cut through the air like a knife, her orders stinging like frozen lashes upon your battered body. You felt sick.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The path ahead split into three directions, clumsy footfalls crushing over the stones beneath you. For a short moment, you hesitated at the trifurcation and rasped furiously, clutching at the stabbing pains in your side. The mean crescent moon casted almost no light at all, half-obscured by a shroud of thin clouds. With legs like lead, you stumble off to the path furthest left, grasping at shrubs with flailing hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How pitiful you must have looked, half-dead and ready to start crying for help. You weren’t sure you could do this anymore, and slowly your brain was clouded with poor judgement.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Do it for Eren,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>a voice whispered in the back of your mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your feet slipped and suddenly your left ankle rolled beneath the weight of your body; regardless, you continued your trek with only pure adrenaline to keep you on your feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The shouting behind you grew louder—the gap was closing. You could hear them deliberate splitting up, but your focus was quickly diverted to the building throb in your ankle. Now practically running on two wounded feet, the outcome of this breakout was looking bleaker by the second—there was little chance for escape, it appeared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Running into the forest robbed you of one sense and heightened the others. How disorienting it was to be nearly blinded by the darkness but given the ears of a rabbit… Even the soft twirling of the leaves felt heavy in your ears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blackness nurtured a sense of claustrophobia inside you, even though the woodland stretched unbroken for miles. The narrow path, which was made uneven by the knotted roots that crossed it, branched at intervals—.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah!” An ugly scream lurched from your broken throat when the brambles lashed at your bleeding legs like shackles firm around your ankle. You fell and tumbled, arms thrust freely before you to embrace most of the damage for the sake of your face. After a few moments of falling headlong, you settled into a supine position, long shadows stretching from the path you had come from to cover half your face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A lash from a twig found itself dangerously close to your left eye. You lightly touched the wound, pulling back to reveal sticky red. The swelling was just beginning, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The darkened sky pressed down on you then, and you forced yourself to sit up and navigate your surroundings. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hopelessness gnawed at your insides when you recognized you had come to a dead-end. The track you were on had snaked around the side of the mountain to a sheer drop off. If you had rolled a few feet further, you would have plummeted to a surefire death. There was nowhere else to go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You clutched at your ankle, hissing when it screamed angrily at your prodding. Your pain was </span>
  <em>
    <span>crushing </span>
  </em>
  <span>you—it left you incapable of everything. It left you broken, in and out. The tears won’t roll down, and the scream of agony won’t escape past your quivering lips. You weren’t sure if you could move, but the sound of Eren’s voice telling you to </span>
  <em>
    <span>“get up, (y/n),” </span>
  </em>
  <span>was what got you swaying shakily to a stand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just in time for the snapping of twigs underfoot to breach your ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You froze, chasing away images of the one face that brought you comfort in such a daunting time. Before you emerged the female captain, her eyes gleaming like limpid pools in shadow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stepping over a recently fallen log, her boots crunched along the dirt path, a rifle strapped intimidatingly to her back. She did not draw her gun, choosing to observe your wildly shaking form with a look that could only be described as a mixture of pleasure and fake pity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have to say… I’m impressed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was alone, it appeared. The other MPs must have split off in the other two directions. How unlucky for you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She placed her lantern by the treeline and took several strides, pausing a fair distance away from you. With your back turned to the steep cliff, there was no other option but to fight off this healthy, well-trained soldier and make it back to the trail. To say your chances of success were low would be an understatement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As if the moon could sense your desperation, it abruptly emerged from behind the clouds to offer its light. It swirled in combination with the lantern, setting the stage, and shined upon you and the captain ominously. The flat terrain just before the drop off looked more and more like a tiny battlefield by the second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The captain placed a hand firmly against her hip, cocking it to one side. “I never thought you’d be dumb enough to attempt swimming across the lake. Most would drown in it, but...here you are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your teeth chattered and a chill ran up and down your spine. “Y-you don’t have-have to do this,” you pushed out through cold lips. It wasn’t meant to be a desperate declaration, simply a statement of fact in hopes to reason with this vengeful woman. No matter what happened next, you only hoped to help her find herself...if what Jennings had said was true, her anger was fueled by the memory of her fallen comrades.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She rose a single brow high upon her forehead. “At this point, you’re about to fall over if the wind just pushes you the wrong way. I don’t even have to do anything.” Her voice was snarky, biting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You shook your head. That wasn’t your point. Your arms wrapped around your abdomen to clench firmly at your sides, eyes unwavering and confident. “Your comrades are suffering back th-there,” you choked out under your breath, shoulders swaying with each passing moment. “Are you sure they’ll be a-alright with you? They need their leader.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her laugh was so sudden, it terrified you with its vigor. Had she cut off all feelings of sympathy since that day four years ago? Everything about her was cold and bitter—from her dead smile to her dull green eyes, she appeared uncaring for any and all in her life. “Those idiots can handle a few bandits. We have a medic for a reason—the wounded are not a concern of mine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You blinked slowly, observing the casual way she carried herself after such a disdainful declaration, and immediately, you felt great pity for this woman. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You took one step back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do have to admit, you’re right.” She tilted her head, slowly stalking forward to match your retreating footfalls. “Me coming here was something I did out of my own interests. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This </span>
  </em>
  <span>is worth more to me, and I will make sure your head finds its rightful place: Strangled by the executioner and in a noose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You frowned deeply, unsure of how else to reason with her. Didn’t she realize her fixation on the past would cost her even more comrades in the future? Her hatred of you was nothing but a transformation of her shame and insecurities—it was all she hated about herself yet lacked the courage to face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m s-so sorry,” your teeth clicked, the cold freezing up your limbs as you approached the cliff’s ledge. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry? After all the hours we spent together, this is the most I’ve heard you talk,” she scoffed with disdain, her light, cat-like footfalls pausing a few feet away from your shivering form. “Sorry for not giving in to me? We can talk more about that if you come with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she stretched forward to grab you, you waved a hand to smack her away, a sudden fire burning in your belly at how wrong this was all turning out to be. You took one final step back to stand inches from the ledge behind you, assured in the speech that suddenly came tumbling out of your mouth. The wind pried at your soaking wet tresses of hair, throwing them into limp curls as you puffed your chest in preparation to speak:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“N-no. I know whatever you must be feeling r-right now towards me must be awful. You’ve been through a lot, and I can’t help but to want to a-apologize for all that’s happened to you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your wide, fearful eyes glanced down to your feet with silent contrition, swiping at the blood running freely from the cut above your swollen eye. You couldn't see her face, but the captain stood startlingly still before you. You knew you had her attention now, and with a sudden strength, your eyes lifted upward to burn brilliantly with conviction:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But your anger toward me i-is unwarranted. T-trust me, it’s easier to lose yourself in the th-theatrics of your mind, I've done it before… But casting yourself as a victim r-rather than swallowing even an ounce of truth is wrong. Beating down on a person hardly e-even remotely related to your past will never make the pain go a-away. It will only serve to destroy you, even to the point y-you would abandon your subordinates today out of ven-vengeance. I know y-you’re better than this… Please, I don’t want to fight you. I just want you to find y-your own way. Don’t let your hatred dictate your life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like taking a blind swing, you released it all in one go, awaiting her reaction. There was only silence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then laughter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think you know me?” The unhinged look in her eyes made your heart sink lower into the pits of your stomach, but the longer you stared at this beautiful woman, the more calm and composed your visage was. She wasn’t thinking rationally, and that would be her downfall. In the next few moments, your arms and legs were now poised tense like a panther about to pounce on its prey, your gaze growing darker with intent. “You self-righteous wench, thinking you can read me just because someone blabbed about my sob story of a life? Have you already forgotten the beat-down I gave you in front of everyone? I’m more than happy to show you again!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was crazed with rage, unable to accept your truth, and her face bucked under the strain. You were transfixed as her small hands rose in slow-motion as a symbol to engage in combat, briefly stepping backward to allow you space from the ledge to approach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seeing her stand like that only made you feel sad. You could not find it within yourself to hate her, proving this fight to be unnecessary. In all honesty, you could say you didn’t hate many people in this world. Sure there were a few natural enemies you despised, but the people of your everyday life were exceptions. You guessed that made you a freak in this world, something that had people either pegging you as strange or a romancer prone to wild exaggeration. Even in betrayal, the mechanism to turn it into hatred failed; rather, your mind sought to understand her behavior from a compassionate point of view. Why did she want to fight you? What was it about her to make her act with such loathing and detestation for you?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a deep, shaky sigh, you ignored your screaming muscles, the exhaustion, and your desire to just lay down and curl up in a ball and take the beating like you always did. You took no pleasure in doing something like this. None. It was just a necessary defense.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, you raised your arms in a similar stance, stepping forward to accept her challenge. You didn’t expect much from yourself, considering you were practically walking dead at this point, but this was your one opportunity for escape, and you’d be damned to fail now after how far you had come.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In five seconds, everything shifted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You didn’t bother to notice the new set of footsteps approaching the treeline, a newcomer who would soon be beyond baffled by the sight before him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You didn’t recall why your abdomen was screaming bloody murder at you, and what little training you thought you remembered from eight years ago went out the window in a flash.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hell, you don’t feel an ounce of concern when the ledge beneath you suddenly croaked and crumbled, a product of sand and old roots that had been eroding for years.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But as soon as she threw a leg straight for your face, you were moving </span>
  <em>
    <span>like a freaking bat out of hell.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>You ducked and bounced forward with the last ounce of energy you had left in you, clumsily dodging a right-handed uppercut and wrapping a lithe arm to press flush against her skinny neck. Driving your heels into the ground, you yanked with a strength you never knew you had, teeth clenched and hands clasped together in an unbreakable grip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She fell backwards with you, collapsing in a heap of tangled legs as she clawed at your forearms. The butt of her gun dug into your thighs while black tufts of hair caught in your mouth as you let out a battle cry, tears falling down your cheeks from the effort. You had her in a choke-hold that could render even the strongest fighter useless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And oh god. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You felt terrible doing it.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>But the captain was unbelievably clever, well-trained in how to combat situations such as this one. As soon as you’re stable, the captain drove a pointy elbow into your side, sending you shrieking backward from the unbelievable pain. In less than a moment, she had your positions flipped, the moonlight streaming on her onyx-colored hair as it fell loose from the tight bun she was wearing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She straddled you after a short struggle, pinning your arms at your side with her knees, her fists cocked, ready to show you exactly what she had in store for you. She threw punch after punch, your head twisting to avoid the first few before she finally socked you straight in your left eye. You fell into a short daze. The cut from your previous tumble opened even wider, blood spurting in clumps down your face and your lid swelling shut to partially blind you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it was then a loud shout drew your attention back to the forest, a painfully familiar voice littered with a panic so true, it made your chest clench with fear:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“LOOK OUT!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your eyes widened with shock, sharing the same look of disbelief with the captain seated above you when the ground, which had been eroding away for years, suddenly broke away beneath you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh fuck—” Was all she had time to say before you became suspended in mid-air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How stupid of you...you should have known this ground was far too unstable, but there was no time to think, only time to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your body twirled and jerked, engulfed in the debris, and all at once the scenery began to blur together like a poor painting. The colors swirled and blended as your head became tilted. Time seemed to slow down as your one (e/c) eye suddenly caught sight of a thick root, your right hand shooting out to grab it just before you could plummet to your death, the left now clutching firmly onto the captain’s wrist as she dangled in a state of total astonishment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her warm hand immediately wrapped around your own freezing cold wrist, the strap of her rifle breaking off just in time for the two of you to watch as it plunged to the depths of darkness below. Every muscle in your body knotted up as the realization flooded in, that if you were to slip and fall, you would tumble, screaming, through the godless sea of darkness off this mountain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You felt so small and insignificant, terror-stricken, awestruck, and humbled, all at once. Such was the overwhelming majesty of your situation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“D-don’t let go,” was all you could utter, your focus entirely on keeping your grip firm around this thick root of an old, dead tree. Fortunately, the tiny cuff of what was leftover rope had hooked itself neatly on an extension of the root, offering support to your grip strength. It dug painfully into your damaged wrist, but for once, you were thankful for the presence of the restraint.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I—I—” the captain simply stared down at darkness below, mouth agape and horror paralyzing her beyond measure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t look down. L-look at me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pale green eyes turned upward to face you fully, completely stunned by the sudden turn of events. You could only imagine what must be going through her mind right now, probably asking how things had come to this point, questioning why she wasn’t falling to her death now for she was saved by the one person she least expected. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The answer was obvious to you: </span>
  <em>
    <span>of course, you wouldn’t let her fall</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She might be hellbent on revenge, but you weren’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your face remained vacant of all emotion, completely focused and determined to keep your hold for as long as you could. You weren’t sure for how much longer you could go on like this, your fingers still numb from the chill of your swim in the lake, but the best thing you could do was try and find a way out of this mess.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hold onto the r-rope,” you said. The captain obeyed without complaint, lifting her second hand to grip onto the thick twine around your wrist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oi, oi, oi!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You suddenly hear a voice from above, your gaze trailing upward to find the person who had called out in warning to you just seconds ago. “Holy fuck, you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he breathed out a great sigh of relief, but it was short-lived when he recognized the predicament you were now in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After eight years, if it weren’t for the narrowed, tawny brown eyes characteristic of his features, you would have never recognized your savior to be Jean Kirstein. “Can you reach?” Is all you asked, far too engulfed with your impending doom to fully recognize how truly incredible it was to see Jean after all these years. There was no time for pleasantries. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What was he doing here? How did he know you were here in desperate need of help?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lied flat on his chest, a little suspicious of the crumbling pebbles beneath him before extending as far as he could without compromising the foundation. His long fingers were short by a few inches, his breath coming out in brief, panicky puffs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mikasa has our only set of ODM gear. I can’t get to you like this,” he grunted. “If it was only you, you could reach up and I’d be able to pull you…” His deep voice trailed off, growing weaker and softer with each word. The realization of what he was suggesting dawned over you all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your eyebrows furrowed roughly. “Mikasa…” your heart thumped at the familiarity of her name. “H-how long before she can get here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s back at the MP camp. She doesn’t know we’re here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A single bead of water trickled to drip off your nose, your throat immensely dry and no matter how many times you gulped, you found no solace. Your grip was growing more and more decrepit by the second, and if it weren’t for the ropes around your wrist keeping you connected to the roots, you surely would have fallen by now—there was no time to wait.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, your wide-eyed gaze trailed down to observe the captain, who was currently shaking like a leaf in the wind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A drop of water slid from your wet hair, plopping with a splash on the captain’s cheek. Your eyes clashed powerfully, minds melded, and thoughts exchanged without the need for words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Automatically, you shook your head firmly. “I’m n-not letting go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You and I both know we’re not gonna make it out of this alive if we keep this up.” She stated in a matter-of-fact tone, readjusting her grip with great care.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t there a ledge you could climb up?” Jean tried from above, his hand pointing to the left side of the captain. “It might be tough, but it’s worth a shot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes flitted briefly in the direction of his pointer finger, lips pursed to control her breathing. “I’d have to swing to get there, and I don’t think it’s gonna hold,” she answered, bottom lip quivering. Whatever feelings of detestation and enmity she felt for you had disappeared into thin air, her more rational side navigating the situation for solutions. No longer did her emotions run rampant, and only her fear of death was driving her to think quickly. “I guess I don’t have much of a choi—.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The root suddenly creaked under the weight, the two of you bouncing slightly when it broke an inch off the top. You yelped at the feeling of your skin peeling away, the rope around your wrist practically holding all one-hundred kilograms of weight now. Readjusting your grip, you whimpered like a dying dog, your one good eye terror-stricken as you peered helplessly up at Jean.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You had never seen a face filled with such panic, reflecting your own. Jean’s brown eyes were wild, his mouth set in a great grimace. He tried one more time to reach for you, nearly losing his balance before he returned to a crouch. He had never felt more useless in his life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The best he could do was remain cool, he wouldn’t lose himself so easily to his emotions like he had before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey.” Vibrant (e/c) eyes bored deeply into his own, the corner of his lip tilting upward in false confidence, but you didn’t need to know that. “You got this. You’re doing really great,” he said as supportively as he could.  “You’re probably gonna have to swing to get her to safety. Think you’re up for it, (L/n)?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your thoughts were accelerating—you wanted them to slow so you could breathe, but they wouldn’t. Your breaths come in gasps and your heart hammered away at your chest like working on a stiff nail. Gulping one more time, all your faith and hopes were placed in the confident look Jean was sending your way, his long, lightly-colored hair catching your attention in the natural light. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You nodded your head. It was now or never.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You glanced down to the captain, the cold air rushing past in a taunting manner when you noted how terrifyingly high up you were from the ground, about a thirty-second drop. A tingling sensation ran all the way from the tips of your fingers to your toes, your stomach sitting somewhere in your throat now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The captain’s eyes were a washed out green, focused intently on you, for her life depended solely on you right now. They were different now, softer and childish, like windows to her soul. She abruptly broke the contact to glimpse to her left, noting a couple patches of rock which stuck proudly from the side of the mountain. She would have to let go in order to reach them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “R-ready?” you asked. She clearly wanted to say ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ but what other option was there? She nodded her head a few times, blinking away the watery layer of tears in her eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was going to hurt like </span>
  <em>
    <span>hell</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but it’d be worth it if the captain could climb up the ledge on her own. It was just this little task that would make all the difference—both of you would survive if she could just reach that ledge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You held your breath, swinging your left arm back to help her build momentum. Everything was moving in slow motion once again as the captain released her left hand, her grip strength challenged beyond all comprehension.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stretched to grab hold.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Scratch.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holy shit,” Jean muttered to himself, watching helplessly as the Military Police Captain latched onto the tiny handhold successfully. Your eyebrows furrowed themselves deeply, lips curled in as you bit down hard, a look of pure determination that sent him rearing with astonishment. He just couldn’t get over the fact you were dangling off a </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking cliff </span>
  </em>
  <span>right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I...I think I got it,” the captain announced to you, her left side latched onto the holds. Her right leg dangled freely in the air, unable to stretch without putting too much strain on your own position, and her right hand remained firmly attached to your wrist. A mild rush of relief flitted over her features, but you weren’t in the clear just yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re gonna have to let g-go,” you announced shortly, already feeling the minuscule amount of reassurance when part of the pressure was relieved from your body. “I’ll try to help as much as I can.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” was all she said. In seconds, you were helping her latch onto jutting rock wall, the strain on your muscles no longer present when she fully released her hold on you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sudden lack of weight sent you and the root swaying menacingly back and forth, both of your arms now gripping tightly onto its surface. The dying plant was growing harder to hold on to by the minute, but with the help of the ropes around your wrists, you were able to secure yourself firmly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You good?” The captain asked from your left, her form shaking on the cliffside like the reeds in a ditch line. You tried to curl your legs to place them against the wall, but the sheer drop off was far too worn away for you to reach. For the time, you would have to be satisfied with hanging freely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, this is actually pretty secure, I-I think,” you mumbled, lips practically frozen together at this point. You were so exhausted...everything was beginning to grow a little hazy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You coughed into your arms weakly, thankful that your ropes kept you hooked tightly in position. You would be fine, even if you weren’t totally conscious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know if I can hold on for much longer,” the captain admitted, completely rigid now that she was relying solely on her strength to keep her from falling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glancing upward, you find Jean preparing to stretch in your direction. “Jean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyebrows were twisting downward to nestle firm within one another, cheeks puffing in a look of pure concentration. “Who’s going first? You or her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You judged your positions, ascertaining your individual levels of strength and studying your advantages and disadvantages. With the mountain wall leaning the captain backward, her lack of support for her grip was far more dangerous than your dangling position from the root. Sure, your shoulders felt like they just might pop out of their sockets at this point, but from what you could tell, she needed more help than you did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a heavy, muddy pause, you blinked your only good eye to clear your vision of any blurriness that had worked its way in. It didn’t work. You could feel the haze creep forward at the corners, and you weren’t even holding onto the roots anymore. Your restraints were the only thing keeping you supported now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The captain. Help the captain,” you muttered, head drooping lower when you no longer had the strength to continue staring up. Was this what it was like to pass out?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t listen to her. Her whole face is going pale; she clearly needs help more than I do—“</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Snap.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a ringing in your ears now, and everything became silent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You don’t hear the captain as she screamed for you, your eye only registering the look of pure horror on Jean’s face as he reached to grab the base of the root holding you by a thread now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He suddenly tore his gaze away to look over his shoulder, and your eye narrowed in a sad attempt to read his lips. Was he shouting for help?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a mist, moving in with silent steps. Your heart, drenched by fear, throbbed no longer.  You floated in an abyss of stillness, the scenes of your life playing out before you as they should in your final moments in life. In this intense quiet, Jean somehow screamed with his whole body—his eyes wide with terror, mouth rigid and open, his chalky face gaunt and immobile, fists clenched with blanched knuckles, and his nails digging deeply into the palms of his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Crack.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The root finally snapped completely, the pressure of your flailing weight too much to handle and Jean’s side profile immediately disappeared from your sight into the night. You blinked rapidly when it looked like something black leapt over Jean’s head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything was numb, but you were soon shocked back into reality, the air now rushing in your ears like a windy disaster. Paralyzed in fear, you felt your breath being taken, your focus struggling to maintain its place in the real world when Eren’s face suddenly found its way through your blending vision.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Briefly, you smiled at the ridiculousness of it all. He was practically a part of you now. Even now, his unnaturally exotic, emerald green eyes haunted you in your descent. They were unbelievably wide, watching as you fell to your death. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Don’t get it wrong, you weren’t exactly content with this ending of your life, but at least you could die seeing the person who taught you how to love yourself again. You almost started laughing when Eren’s silhouette refused to disappear from sight, wondering if he was actually an angel who had come to take you to the next world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You think back to Jean, wondering if you had read his lips correctly seconds before you fell. This sounded a little crazy, but you swore you thought he said Eren’s name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Curiously, with newfound awareness, you stared as Eren’s athletic frame descended quickly upon you, your hand reaching out in hopes to feel him and prove he wasn’t a hallucination. He was too far away, your fingers only grasping at the endless chasm of midnight. Everything was a blur, a blur that swirled out of existence as the ground drew closer, yet oddly enough, every time you blinked and surrendered yourself to the sky…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren would not go away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The air pushed wildly at your body, throwing you this way and that in an aggressive battle with the wind. Eren was moving in a similar pattern, something strange for what was supposed to be an illusion produced by incoherent thoughts and an exhausted brain. You blinked one more time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Eren was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not going away.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>You watched suspiciously as his hair flew back from his face, whipping with great force, all of this a little </span>
  <em>
    <span>too real </span>
  </em>
  <span>for your comfort. That scowl of his remained firm along his face, even when falling at such an intense speed. His arms and legs were stretched out and long, his clothes flying loosely around him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hold on!” His voice practically smacked you in the face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then, your thoughts suddenly clicked into place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>real.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He was right there, so close to you. Did he jump off that cliff to go after you??</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gosh, how you wanted to scream at him. What in the world was he thinking?? Why was he even </span>
  <em>
    <span>here?!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything was as vague as a dream. You mouthed his name in hopes to get a reaction, not a sound coming from your deadened throat. You watched with recognition as he brought one arm forward quickly, lips pulling backward to reveal a row of pearly white teeth. Lifting the meat of his hand to his face, he bit down harshly on his thumb.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your chest caved at the sight. Was he..?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A crack of thunder resounded, and the light blared, destroying whatever was left of your senses. It was the kind of brightness that seared into your retinas, making you close them for fear of going blind; a brightness that would rival the sun itself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your heart leapt into your throat, so many emotions unsettling your brain, and your mouth was agape in a state of utter disbelief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the first time in eight years, you witnessed his transformation, eye squinting to see beyond the yellowish-green haze to reveal the last thing you would ever expect to see:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A hand, one larger than the size of your body, soared straight for you.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Huzzah! Two weeks of time off work and we have the glorious beginning of the end for the second arc! Vacation was awesome and I went to the beach for the first time in 15 years! I'd be lying if I didn't say I was getting total AOT feels standing in the water, staring off into the horizon. I even did something SUPER EMBARRASSING: I legit stood in the water and did "the point" Eren does at the end of Season 3, like man did I feel like such a weirdo. I had to play it off as if I was pointing at the sun, but really I was just trying to understand exactly how Eren and the others were feeling. I hardly remembered the beach as a child, so it was almost like getting to see it for the first time!</p><p>Let's see, what else can I tell you guys... I know I'm totally forgetting something, and I'll remember it after I post this, but what I do need to say is exactly how thankful I am to have you all in my life! I've never had so much support before like this, and it's incredible to see how my love for Eren is really uniting me with you all LMAO it's so amazing, and if you've made it this far, just know that you've made my day by even taking the time to shuffle through all my lengthy, corny descriptions. I have jumped through some serious hoops trying to figure out a million different ways to describe how beautifully green Eren's eyes are, like holy crap Hahahaha! It's a lot of work and your continued support makes it all worth it!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> After several unsuccessful attempts to spur you from your slumber, a hushed sigh released itself from his chest in defeat.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Hey...you can’t sleep here,” he said louder, feeling more and more ridiculous by the second. Straightening up to his full height, Eren stared down the bridge of his nose with mild annoyance at your frizzy hair, currently draped over your face in a rather dramatic fashion. The only movement you made was the slight rise and fall of your chest. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It was hard to imagine that this was the same girl who used to run around sun up to sun down in camp, trailing after Hanji with her notebooks in hand, strength training with Mikasa and Sasha, cutting down titans when deemed necessary in the field. He was just beginning to come to terms that you truly lived the life of a civilian now; he'd always associated you with the time he was in the Survey Corps, back when he lived his life in ignorance of the rest of the world. It seemed so long ago, but now, you were a woman, spending your days tending to the farm, knitting with colorful fabrics, reading books in the evening, and simply appreciating your life in your hometown.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> In sleep, your storm of boundless energy was nothing, recuperating so you could start all over again tomorrow. Shaking his head, Eren's face remained impassive, watching when you made gentle snuffling noises as you breathed. </em>
</p><p><em> For a moment, he half-contemplated just leaving you to sleep on your rocking chair in the outdoors </em> — <em> it was pretty warm out, afterall. He’d slept on the side of the road quite a few times before in far more unpleasant weather than this, and the worst consequence was a tight back and nothing more. You could survive a night here, right? </em></p><p>
  <em> But…he thought against it. Biting the inside of his cheeks, he noted that the mosquitoes were having too much of a field day with your skin, a few red bumps already decorating your arms.  </em>
</p><p><em> Thank goodness he woke up to use the outhouse. Usually, once Eren was out for the night, he was a total brick; he </em><em>wouldn’t be up until 11:00 AM at the </em> <em> earliest</em><em>. </em></p><p>
  <em> The flame of your lantern flickered lowly by the window, highlighting frosted glass framed with rotting wood. If it weren’t for the light, he never would have noticed you resting on your back porch this late at night. Beneath the lamp was a book that laid open beside the rocking chair you were curled in, its backbone facing up toward the ceiling.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Slowly, he stretched forward to collect your novel, the scrunched up pages indicating you had fallen asleep in the middle of reading. The book was several hundred white pages, each gentle to the fingertips and very worn from excessive use. It was probably your one-hundredth time reading it. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Perusing the title, he wrinkled his nose and rose a single eyebrow in response. A sappy romance novel. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> With your book now tucked under his arm, he stared down at you once more to study your unnatural position. How could you even sleep like that anyway? Dressed in a long nightgown, with legs and arms tucked neatly beneath you, your spine slumped like rubber to curl in a way that made Eren’s back hurt just looking at it.  </em>
</p><p><em> Eren shook his head once. He was almost jealous how you could nap away like no other </em> — <em> for Eren, sleep was a fleeting chore. </em></p><p>
  <em> With his patience growing thinner by the second (not to mention his poor distended bladder), the brunette laid a solid hand on your shoulder and gave it a good shake. This seemed to do the trick, because instantly, your head jerked upward to reveal a set of half-lidded, hazy (e/c) eyes. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Huh?”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He watched as you awoke like there was an emergency, as if sleeping had become a dangerous thing, even though you were miles in the countryside during a time of peace. He could visibly see the buzzing in your brain when your gaze lazily rolled left and right, glazed over with the remnants of a dream. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Finally, your focus settled on him and your eyes brightened visibly with recognition. “Oh, Eren! Do you need something?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Eren’s face remained stoic and unmoving, unsure of what to make of your garbled, sleep-ridden words. You stared at him with a natural smile, slowly raising a hand to rub the remainders of drowsiness away. The hair you normally kept pulled away from your face was as wild as a jungle of vines, untamable and unruly. The once glossy (h/c) tresses now vaguely resembled a birds nest, and any bows that had once held them in place were long gone. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Actually...what time is it?” You tried again when he didn’t answer, his gaze burning a fierce green in the light of your lantern.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Two in the morning,” he said simply, voice without a flicker of emotion. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The shock registered on your face before you could hide it, pink lips parting to match your wide eyes. Immediately, you’re scrambling to your feet, and you were in that moment between action and consequence, eternal and fleeting. The seed of embarrassment was wedged inside you, ready to blossom red upon your cheeks. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Heh~oh well. I guess I fell asleep out here...” You scratched sheepishly at your chin before moving on to your arms. “Anyway, was there something you needed?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Eren blinked once, staring down at your haphazard form with mellowed intrigue. It was only his second night there, and already he was interacting with you far more than he intended. You were excessively polite, deferential even, and he couldn’t tell if it was because you were intimidated by his presence or if it was simply your nature. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You had a lovely voice, dulcet and pleasing even when shrouded in fatigue. He was already a little suspicious of your consistent warmth, something he hadn’t experienced from another human in quite some time.  </em>
</p><p><em> Usually, the people he passed by made it a point to keep their distance from him. When he’d ask strangers for directions to Krolva, their eyes could never meet his own for long </em> — <em> they traveled down to his boots and almost back to his face, stopping somewhere around his collarbone. Sometimes, they’d visibly shuffle backward from him, voice trailing as if they were struggling against a back-drop of loud thoughts. </em></p><p>
  <em> But with you, it was different. You were like a modest flower, not the most exciting or beautiful, but blown and warm. Maybe it was different because Eren had such an extensive history with you, but not even Mikasa and Armin could look him in the eye anymore.  </em>
</p><p><em> You had no problem sharing eye contact with him and never stepped away, constantly emitting a sunshine no matter the time of day. Something about you just seemed to lack complexity </em> — <em> you were straightforward, easy to read, and a bit of a sloth when it came to taking care of yourself. There were no underlying secrets beneath the empathetic way you carried yourself, just a natural aura of contentment.  </em></p><p>
  <em> And then there was your smile, the one that seemed so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness that made an unexpected warmth rush through him. You used it at the most random times of day, but particularly saved it for when you interacted with him. He wasn’t sure what exactly he did to deserve such a look, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Eren?”  </em>
</p><p>“Eren!”</p><p>He heaved his legs against the gale, against the pressure building on his chest. It hit his face like it intended to pass right through, but he was too strong to be slowed. His emerald eyes searched the strip of land frantically before resting on Jean who was crouched along the edge. Eren did not let up on his sprint once.</p><p>“—Shift now!” Jean whipped his head around so fast it nearly fell off his shoulders, pointing over the ridge. </p><p>Eren didn’t need to be told twice.</p><p>He could feel the blood draining from his face, and before he was even aware, his legs were pounding furiously on uneven stone. He could sense it from the way his whole body raked with anticipation—. </p><p>Yeah, Eren knew this feeling all too well. The Fear. The Heartbreak. Both gripping his brain to the point he could no longer function appropriately. </p><p>He remembered it most prominently the day his mother was eaten right before his eyes, when he could do nothing to save Hannes from his death, the time when Captain Levi refused to give the titan serum to Armin… How terrified he was to lose the people he loved, how powerless he felt.</p><p>But this would be different. He had the power to save you and not even his curse could stop him.</p><p>There was no time to assess the tension, no time to question why you were tumbling off a sheer drop, no time to recognize the feminine scream tearing through him like a great shard of glass. Without a second thought, he was leaping and momentarily floating in the air, arms and legs pedaling against nothing but the wind.</p><p>His eyes widened and pulse quickened, heart throbbing like never before in his chest. </p><p>Holy shit, he was <em> so </em>high up in the air.  </p><p>But each second brought him closer to home, to you, and now, he was descending from the mountain to find your broken and battered body falling at an ungodly speed.</p><p>The rush of the wind in his squinted eyes made it difficult for him to see, the light of the moon parting the clouds just enough for him to pinpoint how surreal this was all turning out to be. His perception of time contorted, slowing down until there was nothing.</p><p>You almost looked...peaceful. </p><p>Even now, of all the times to do so, you were <em> smiling. </em>He couldn’t tell if you were just completely delusional or actually happy to see him, but he was certain it was a combination of the two. Overall, there was absolutely no logical reason for you to be beaming at him right now, yet here you were, looking like you always did in his presence, completely enthralled with every boring detail he had to offer. Eren was utterly baffled by that thought.</p><p>The normally bright glow of your (e/c) eyes was so faded and dull, he might have thought you to be dead if you hadn’t reached a limp hand up to grasp for him. The moonlight splashed down upon you with its watery, white-silver glow, bathing what might have been a beautiful scene in any other situation after an entire night of darkness.</p><p>In the distance, he could see the trees were silhouetted against the deep velvety ground, and his determination to protect you only strengthened.</p><p>“Hold on!” He shouted with a brazen, intimidating voice, booming without flinch.</p><p>He could see the recognition dawn over your features, like waking up from a dream. Whatever emotional drug you were on quickly dissipated, and now you were silently staring up at him with the most desperate, terrified, and exceptionally human expression he had seen all week.</p><p>For the first time in years, he lifted his hand to his mouth to bite down upon his flesh. His teeth were so tightly clenched, he almost had to pry them apart just to get them separated wide enough. He wasn’t sure of the consequences to be drawn from transforming when his body was already pushed beyond its limits, but right now, none of that mattered.</p><p>You were the one who made the cradle for his soul, the very fabric that kept him warm on this planet. He’d fight for your happiness all the way to his deathbed, and he was sure you would do the same. Silently, he thanked the universe and every star above that the two of you made your way together, that your life paths were woven so intricately. </p><p>What came next would be his most difficult task yet, but seeing you thrive was worth any negative repercussion his mind could conjure.</p><hr/><p>Your brain was in full shut-down mode. </p><p>Clammy and numb with a cold sweat, all of your strength had been sapped from your body. Greenish-yellow sparks shot through the air, followed by the sound of crackling bone and flesh being stacked on top of one another. Unsure of what else you could do, you lifted your arms to cover both your eyes, feeling boiling hot skin grip everything below your chest tightly. Trapped in your own psychosis, you relived a short nightmare tailor-made by your brain to play on your deepest fears… </p><p>
  <em> Holy crap. Holy crap. Holy crap. </em>
</p><p>It took everything out of you to remember this was Eren who was holding you right now. You peeked your one good eye, watery and enlarged, at the fifteen-meter titan clutching you only to feel the hairs on the nape of your neck bristle. A gaggle of goosebumps laminated your frigid skin as the titan drove its left arm and legs into the cliff-side in hopes to slow your descent. </p><p>Cracks appeared and the wall shifted. </p><p>The noise was like extended thunder in your ears but only worse because the vibrations shook you to your core. You tried to focus on the skin of Eren’s hand searing against your own as a distraction, but fear and panic ensued as your whole body quaked up and down. </p><p>However, the stone wall was no longer a blur in your vision, Eren’s efforts proving their worth when your velocity slowed. Your eye was locked still, fixed right back on Eren, though your head kept moving and teeth sank more deeply into your lower lip than what was comfortable. </p><p>His eyes looked beastly, narrowed and glowing a haunting green color beneath the fringe of long brown hair flying in all directions. He was entirely focused on keeping his limbs spread wide, holding you as far away from his titan body as he could. Quads and biceps rippled along the beast, grappling to maintain his balance. </p><p>Your head shook side to side almost too slight to notice, part-tremble and part-deliberate. Your hands fell down to grip tightly at the flesh of his thumb, and all at once, your lip buckled upward and tears began to form. You weren’t sure, but you thought his eyes were now fixed on you.</p><p>
  <em> No, you can’t cry. </em>
</p><p>You just couldn’t believe he was here. Right now. At the time you needed him most, he <em> came back for you. </em></p><p>The ground came quickly, and soon, Eren had you pulled tight to his chest, wrapped in both his hands to protect you from the impact. The crash jarred your bones in an unnatural way, but you were alive and there was nothing more you could really ask for.</p><p>Entrapped in his hold, your legs curled and your back, still sensitive from the sting of the whipping pole, pressed against the striations of his chest wall. You peered through the cracks of Eren’s fingers to find the ground crumbling beneath, his titan body taking most of the damage in hopes to ease the collision for you. Shortly, like a cold wave, everything grew still, and all that could be heard was the heaving breaths of his titan.</p><p>The shock you felt was like a smack to the face, so sudden that your senses didn’t have time to react to anything. Slowly, you tried to push with your hands to a stand, but realized how futile it was when your abdomen—having been compressed like a button—screamed against your movements. You were tired, pushed beyond tolerance—.</p><p><em> But you were alive. </em> Eren was here. And nothing else mattered in that moment. </p><p>You felt his chest rise and fall against your back, the darkness too thick to see beyond the shadow of the lines of his palms. </p><p>And then, there was light. Stealing your breath and the heat from your skin, he pulled you from his body. </p><p>You twisted to grab hold of his thumb, seated on your hip as you clung desperately to keep yourself from falling. The encasing of your dome fell away to reveal Eren’s titan, sunken green eyes boring ardently down on you. A series of shivers trailed up and down your body—whether from the cold or the wave of intense emotion you felt, you didn’t know.</p><p>You were awestruck, unable to say a single word, blinking rapidly when the vision of his titan grew blurry. Your face twisted downward, the strain of the last few days beating down on you layer after layer. </p><p>Up until now, you were <em>so certain</em> you were going to die, and to have suffered for days, being told <em> over </em> and <em> over </em>again there was not a single person left in this world who would care if you perished… Well, it wasn't true, but the damage was still there.</p><p>Everything came raining down upon you right in that moment: All of the psychological torture of wondering if they were right; the pain during those pitch black, countless nights of constant chill; the torment of wondering if you were doomed to die feeling isolated and unloved...and perhaps the worst of it all:</p><p>The thoughts that Eren never cared about you and used you for his own.</p><p>You were more than crying now, it was the kind of desolate sobbing that came from a person drained of all emotional and rational energy. All you could do was croak out his name softly, vocalizing it over and over again like a sad mantra to help you come to terms with how dreamlike this had all turned out to be. “You came for me… <em> You came for me </em>,” you lifted your eyes, the tears spilling steadily down your cheeks. </p><p>The pain that flowed from you was as palpable as the frigid fall wind. Your hands released themselves from Eren, rising shakily in front of your face so you could stare at your palms. After such a close, surefire brush with death, your mood swings were a response that would be natural of any human. </p><p>Soon, your neck dropped forward and head swayed lowly like a dying flower, shoulders heaving as the weight of the last few days came crashing down; days filled with unrecognized loneliness and emotions you had shoved to the pits to save for later. It took a minute, but your tears were mildly slowing, falling in a blend of relief and astonishment. </p><p>Images filtered through your head, the red flames flickering and dancing upon your farmhouse like a cruel nightmare; the crack of the bat against your stomach with each unanswered interrogation question. </p><p>You tried to control your sobbing, but your defenses were paper, paper soaked by falling briny drops. It would take awhile, but with one final shaky breath, you eventually melted into Eren’s palm with exhaustion, watching him raise his second hand to offer you his index finger. </p><p>He stared down at you, waiting patiently for the wracking sobs to pass. You cried in such a desolate way that he couldn’t bear to listen for long. </p><p>You fell entranced by his titan form, something you hadn’t seen in oh-so many years, and tried to forget your sorrow. Tendrils of dark hair fell haphazardly around his head to graze his shoulders, his nose hooked and prominent, teeth bare of lips and jagged making him incapable of speech. The only thing about him that reminded you of Eren was the deeply sunken, emerald green eyes. </p><p><em> “Stand up, (y/n),” </em>they seemed to say. You observed well-developed, massive traps, rising and falling to release a huff of air from his nose, his gaze unwavering from your own. He encouraged you with a nod of his head, the motion striking you with amazement at how incredible his titan truly was. With shaky fists, you grasped the ends of your sleeves and wiped at your dirt-smudged eyes carefully, flinching when you touched the nick above your swollen eye.</p><p>With a return of his nod with your own, you slowly and deliberately reached to grasp his index finger, feeling more and more like a helpless child. He raised you to your feet, a surprisingly gentle motion, and proceeded to help you down to the ground where he knew it was safe.</p><p>You weren’t sure of his intentions but obeyed, nonetheless. In seconds, he had you leaning against the trunk of an ancient oak, snapped in half from the force of his fall. You continued your quiet sniffles, convinced that none of this crying really held any purpose. It was rather embarrassing to fall apart like that in front of Eren—that was the kind of sobbing you hadn’t done since you were fifteen after returning to discover your father had died unexpectedly in your absence. When combined with the loss of your foot, your whole world had ended then. </p><p>Suddenly, a flurry of steam erupted from the nape of Eren’s titan, its muscular body slumping forward in its seated position with dramatic fashion. Your one good eye had that wide look, your bottom lip trembling as you hurried to step forward, only to feel the ligaments of your left ankle yank the strength right out of you. You collapsed, now stationed on your hands and knees.</p><p>You looked up from the ground just in time to see Eren in his human form yanking himself away from the tendrils of muscle with all his strength, digging hurriedly at the tendons surrounding his arms. His titan was already falling apart, decomposing right before your very eyes in a rather menacing sight. You now realized Eren had hardened and blown the legs of his titan off upon impact, and you wondered idly if he could feel it even now.</p><p>Everything you had been feeling for the last few days emerged full throttle, every thought, question, and perception you saved just for Eren. You raised shakily to a stand with a death grip on your side, knuckles white and face even chalkier as you tried to shuffle closer to him.</p><p>Sliding off the back of his titan, he landed gracefully upon misshapen dirt and stone. His transformation had torn a gaping hole in the back of his coat, the fabric now raggedy, but he made no motion to remove it. He simply lifted his gaze from the ground, and you’re magically drawn to the serious and silent features of his face.</p><p>His hair tie had fallen victim to his transformation as well, and now his hair moved much like the soft prairie grass of your hometown in the wind. Back and forth the strands went, revealing and hiding the vibrant green of his eyes, decorated with grooves from his titan markings.</p><p>He was too far away. You had to be closer. Nothing had changed about him, but at the same time, it all felt different. Only days had passed, yet it was centuries since the last time you saw him.</p><p>Eren wore a face like he was expecting anger from you, anger that just didn’t exist. All you had for him was love, all you wanted was to keep him safe. He looked like he was waiting for you to start chastising him for everything that happened, but there was nothing you wanted more than to embrace him in a never-ending hold, one that told him everything would be alright. You lost him once, you didn’t want to lose him again.</p><p>For Eren, however, he was convinced you would be upset with him.</p><p><em> “Of course you would," </em> h e thought. He <em> was </em>the cause of this whole mess. It was because of his neglect, you lost everything; and his ignorance, they captured and tortured you for information on his whereabouts.</p><p>He could see sentiment swirl with ice, circling the cold drain of your brain while streaks of fire burned your cheeks. Bruised, ragged, with abandoned and dirty hair, you were a thin slip of a woman, like a new moon. Eren was eating you with his eyes, wishing to run his hand through your tangled hair, as if he couldn’t quite believe you weren’t a part of an almost forgotten dream. Your wounds were numerous, and he could feel his rage bubbling deep within, growing since the day he had left you. </p><p>But instead, he took the resentment and loathing and fury that churned inside of him and placed a stopper on them, not to bottle them up forever but to keep his love for you safe. He would handle the Military Police later.</p><p>Now, all he was left with was his guilt.</p><p>The guilt was like poison in his guts. His insides died slowly in the toxicity, needing no more than a spark to set it ablaze. The fire then burnt him out so badly there was nothing left but a shell, an outline of a person. </p><p>He jogged to stand an arm’s length away, the two of you hesitating when the other paused. His hands dug stiffly in the pockets of his pants to keep himself from reaching for you when clearly it would be unwanted. He faced you head on, fearless and well-prepared for his punishment. </p><p>If you wished to never see him again, so be it. If you wanted him to go, he would leave as soon as he was certain the Military Police would promise to clear you of any charges upon your name. Your wish was his command, and he swore, he would make sure the last thing he ever did would benefit you for life. </p><p>How stupid of him to believe he could find happiness when he had ruined the lives of so many others… </p><p>Eren’s jaw tightened. It was only a matter of time, and now he had ruined yours. He deserved not an ounce of anything in his life, and this growing black hole in his heart was his retribution. He knew he could handle the whole world hating him, but he wasn’t sure if he could take it from you.</p><p>He looked down upon you, waiting for anything, but your face was well-hidden beneath wild, (h/c) tresses. Eren could see your slim shoulders shaking with each surge of emotion, and his face fell in an expression of doom. He didn’t know what to do, what to say, hesitating in his spot. Finally, he exhaled quietly and allowed his eyelids to fall, ready to collapse deeper into the darkness of his bleak, lonely life—the one where there was not a person in the world who could stand to look him in the eye.</p><p>“I can’t believe you.” There was that devastatingly honeyed voice of yours, sounding softer than satin. </p><p>He was prepared for a well-versed speech, one that would rip him bit to bit on the inside. Instead, he felt soothing pressure around his neck, your hand lying gently upon his opposite shoulder, squeezing the muscle. Next came the sensation of your cold cheek pinned firm on his sternum, as if to listen to the beating of his heart. </p><p>“You-you never told me you were going to die,” you mumbled into his shirt. His lips parted in response, the shock widening his eyes as he took a sharp inhale of breath in. You...Were you not mad? “That was why you left, wasn’t it?”</p><p>In your embrace, the world stopped still on its axis. There was no time, no wind, no cold. Eren’s mind was at peace. How could it be that he hadn’t seen your love for what it was before? Pure. Unselfish. Undemanding. Free.</p><p>And how could he have been so wrong? Your compassion was never-ending. He felt your body press in, soft and warm. This was the love he’d waited for, toyed with in his mind because he never thought it’d be real for him. He inwardly thanked the world for bringing you to him and returned the embrace all the tighter, feeling you wince under his squeeze. He settled to cradle the back of your neck and hair, his other hand resting upon the arm you had wrapped around your wounded abdomen. </p><p>A love like this was to be cherished for life, or so his mom used to say, and he’d roll his eyes every time at how romanticized she made it all sound. Finally, he knew what she meant. He was home.</p><p>“You’re not angry,” he rumbled out, more like a statement of blissful surprise than a question.</p><p>You answered him anyway. “Of course I’m angry,” you huffed against his chest, repositioning your arm over his shoulder to drape around his waist. “You just showed up out of nowhere and jumped off a cliff like a crazy person! Do you have any idea how terrible it would have been if you died with me?? How many people would be so sad?”</p><p>He could hear the conflict already, you wanting to be strong for him yet there was a need to weep welling up inside. He watched as the fallen leaves behind you were gusted in a flurry, feeling a strange smile prod at his lips from the familiarity of you in his arms, the sound of your voice, the smell of your hair. </p><p>“I would have had to beat the stupidity out of you next time I saw you in the afterlife,” you croaked. “And that would be <em> a lot </em> of work. An eternity’s worth.” His eyebrows lifted so high his forehead scrunched, and soon his face settled into a look of calm. Elation tugged the corners of his lips upward, and no longer did he feel the need to hide his emotions from you. This time, he wouldn’t push you away. He’d made the mistake once, but he wasn’t going to screw it up again.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he whispered, craning his neck to rest his head atop of yours. “I’m so sorry.”</p><p>“There’s nothing to be sorry for…” your voice trailed off. </p><p>“All of this never would have happened if I hadn’t—”</p><p>You pulled your upper body away from him so suddenly, the loss of your warmth sent shivers throughout. He could still feel your hips pressed firmly against his, your touch like an electric shock dispatching sparks to places he’d rather not talk about right now. A single finger hovered just over his lips, your hand, smudged with dirt, entering his vision.</p><p>“If you hadn’t what? Hadn’t stayed with me for so long?” You sighed, shaking your head slowly. </p><p>But before he could respond, you were collapsing against him, the exhaustion finally taking its toll as he held your weight up.</p><p>Steadily, he lowered you to the ground, cradling your smaller form close in his lap like a child. He listened as you hissed in pain, and he wondered how long you had been playing your wounds off as though they were nothing. </p><p>His eyes walked from one injury to another, taking in the gore that was you. From your swollen eye to your twisted ankle, he counted numerous, serious wounds that would have any normal person crying by now. </p><p>He continued to hold you close with one arm, the other lifting from your elbow to lightly take hold of the hand you held in his face. He twisted and flipped the fine fingers, his jaw clenching at the sight of rope hanging loose upon thin wrists. Those hands that were once beautiful, precise, and callused were now marred with disgusting burns that spread like lengthy digits along your skin.</p><p>Immediately, you’re lightly slapping his hand away, well-aware of the violence invading Eren’s spirited green eyes. Soon, you gently cup your palm around his jaw, fingers disappearing to snake within the depths of his chocolate hair. Your thumb rested prominently along his face, stroking the stubble. </p><p>“You don’t get it, do you?” Your smile was radiant, looking up at him like there was a great joy in how you could silence him with just a simple gesture:</p><p>“Eren, <em> you saved my life </em>. And not just because you dove headfirst off a cliff fifteen minutes ago.”</p><p>For a moment, you were happily absorbed by a feeling of love that played in your subtle smile and soft gaze, your thumb running gently along his cheek and over the divots of his markings. Your hearts were like muffled drums, beating marches in unison. He simply stared with partially-widened eyes, his lips curled down in a scowl. </p><p>He wasn’t sure what he was doing now. He was letting his instincts take control as he slowly leaned forward. A small lock of hair tumbled in front of your face, resting just in front of your cheek, but with one swift slide of his thumb it was brushed away. You were still, looking into his eyes and this time you saw deep pools of bluish-green that displayed his soul. His lips touched your forehead.</p><p>It was a simple show of passion, one you felt that described Eren in his entirety. Time stopped. Your heart came to a halt. Your breath caught in your throat. Fingers locked together similar to puzzle pieces. As the soft skin of his mouth left you, the exact spot where they had come into contact burned and tingled. A hot blazing fire pulsed, and a small grin crept onto your face, your cheeks painted red beneath all the purple. He pulled away silently, but your eyes locked, having a private conversation of their own.</p><p>His eyes then flickered to your lips, his innocence slowly growing possessed by a desire to continue exploring this piece of companionship with you. But your one good eye was beginning to fall now, growing heavier and heavier as fatigue urged you closer to a dreamless sleep. “Eren...your nose is bleeding again...” you mumbled out, your hand falling from his face into your lap. </p><p>Eren watched as a drop of blood steadily splashed onto your freshly cold lips, and he quickly swiped the drop away. His hand curled upward to catch the rest before they could spatter your ashen skin, his worry growing exponentially now that you were no longer speaking. It appeared you had fallen asleep, unconsciously snuggling closer to his torso. The entirety of today’s events truly put a number on you.</p><p>But now, he could feel his own blackness come over him, like a blanket, but not one of warmth.</p><p>He blinked his emerald eyes rapidly, glancing around the area for any place to hide out until Hanji could find the two of you. Jean and him were meant to rendezvous back to the abandoned jailhouse afterward, but it was on the opposite side of the mountain, and you both were currently unfit to travel. They would come searching soon… Eren didn’t like to admit it, but Jean was a good guy. He’d have the Survey Corps here to take care of you as soon as he could.</p><p>Eren could feel something bubbling in his stomach, so he quickly laid you to the side so he could move away. He bent over as sharply as if he’d been punched in the stomach, and drops of blood splatter the dust at his feet. He coughed and clenched his fists, feeling beyond frustrated when his body responded so negatively to his titan transformation.</p><p>Red liquid drizzled down his face like rain on a window, but he had to be fast. He could see a depression in the sheer face of rock over to the right of his titan carcass. It wasn’t much, but it’d be enough to house you from the elements. </p><p>He carried you as well as he could—if his body was going to take him down, he’d make sure you were at least within the safety of this cave over anything else. Bridal-style wasn’t working all too well, so he had to sling your tiny body over his back like a bag, your arms dangling loosely over his shoulders.</p><p>He stumbled into the cave (which wasn’t much of a cave at all) and with each step, his stomach tightened and ached all the more. He kept swallowing, and his throat kept clenching, but no matter what, he could not stop the warm feeling rising through his chest. He laid you as gently as possible along the ground and stripped himself of the tattered hand-me-down coat he had taken from the jailhouse. There was a massive hole blown through the back, but when balled up, it was enough to at least cushion your head.</p><p>As soon as his head was ducked back outside and away from you, he was buckling over. A warm, clouded, pink-colored liquid spilled from his mouth and sizzled as it splashed over the cold stone floors. He rose back to his full height, wiping a little harshly at his mouth with annoyance. The darkness was creeping back into the corners of his vision once more…</p><p>He could tell it was happening again—the Curse of Ymir was brutal to him in the same way it was to his father, and Eren Kruger, and his predecessors before them.</p><p>After his nausea was settled, he returned inside once more, noting the depression was only five feet tall, four feet back, and five feet wide. The lack of wind and the ground untouched by chill almost made the little indent feel warm, however. If he had the strength, he’d try to build a fire, but his eyesight blurred and everything became fuzzy.</p><p>Eren fell uncomfortably against the corner wall of rock, twisting just in time to sit with his left thigh pressed against the top of your head. A tanned hand rested itself within the locks of your tangled hair, and he savored one last look at your resting form before his consciousness was floating through an empty space filled with a thick static. Throughout the inky space, his heartbeat pounded loudly, echoing in his ears, alongside fading pleas for help.</p><p>He slumped over, dreaming of the night he found you sleeping on your back porch, his heart complete for now at least, amongst the destruction of his dying body.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>T.T It's here! We did it guys, after hours of negotiation, collecting donations, creating missing posters, and one bake sale:</p><p>Project Eren x Reader has returned in all its glory!</p><p>I personally don't like how I wrote this scene, but I always feel like I've got loads of room for improvement. Maybe one day I'll come back and fix it up to something I like a little better? Or maybe it's perfect and I'm just being a big baby about it! Hahaha so long as you all enjoy it, I'm totally down for anything! </p><p>Things are getting a little tough on my end, I have so much love for Eren, but I'm starting to get that feeling I always do when I grow to hate my writing UGHHH I'm thinking I might take some time to rewatch the anime a little, read some more fanfiction (like serise's if i could fly on AO3 or TheInsomniaOwl/FortReveuse20's Love After Death on Quotev and AO3 or literally anything attackonfics has to write on AO3) and rebuild my passion for some goooood fanfic writing. I have a rather huge exam coming up as well for my job I have to start focusing on, so I will spend some of my writing time focusing more on that! </p><p>I hope you all will understand! T.T In all honesty, watch me post another monster chapter next week because something just clicks over the weekend and I turn into a fanfic machine again LMAO Overall, I just want you all to know that I am so deeply in love with each and every one of you, and I will definitely give it my best shot to keep sharing with you all my writing! I have been so blessed these last couple months, and hopefully, this is just a little hump we have to get over so we can get back to the good stuff: loving Eren Yeager lol</p><p>Thank you guys so much for everything! I hope to see you all next week, and if not, I will totally post a comment or something about when to expect an update!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I’m not going to tell you anything.”</p><p>The air was so brittle, cutting harshly against Jean’s throat with each footfall along the winding mountain path. The chill of the night did nothing for how sticky and suffocated he felt right now, the image of your beaten body stark in his brain. </p><p>He had seen the lightning, heard the distant <em>thud! </em>of Yeager’s landing, and he waited for twenty minutes. Twenty minutes for any sign you had survived the fall. There was nothing.</p><p>“My team will come looking for me soon. Don’t think your people will get away with this.”</p><p>The dread crept over him like an icy chill, numbing his brain. In this frozen state, his mind offered him only one thought: Eren and you might be dead. There was no avoiding it, and Hanji would surely be upset if that were the case. If this begrudging trek around the mountain to the Garrison’s jailhouse wasn’t his end, then surely Hanji’s disappointment would be. Right now, he felt like a cow being herded into a wagon for the slaughter house, only the cow didn’t know where it was going and he did.</p><p>“Just wait. When I report to the Premier that the Scouts are working with Eren Yeager and tampering with an arrest—.”</p><p>Jean’s head reeled to face behind him, his caramel-colored eyes narrowed and searing. “Can you just shut your mouth for one second? For someone who just had her life saved by a Scout, you’re pretty ungrateful.”</p><p>“You call that saving my life? I could have pulled myself up and over that ledge without you, thank you very much,” she hissed back, grayish-green eyes glowering darkly at him.</p><p>“I’m not talking about me.” Jean frowned, momentarily pausing in his steps to size up the captain. There was no need to elaborate any further, her body now rigid with recognition. Soon, her stern gaze morphed and casted itself down to her boots. That seemed to shut her up.</p><p>The two of them continued their march, the mountain path crisscrossing ahead as effortlessly as a blanket laid on a bed. Each footfall costed Jean more strength, for it was as steep as it was narrow and rocky in a chaotic way, just enough to keep his gait from falling into a steady rhythm.</p><p>His dread remained locked up tight, nothing getting in or out, but this time in memory of the campsite battle. Their plan to rescue you was rather simple, but all it took was one little mishap to send everything out of control. Mikasa, who was entrusted with the single set of old, illegal ODM gear they snatched from the Garrison Jailhouse, snuck into the base with Hanji to set fire to the Military Police’s rations tent.</p><p>It was a rather simple trick. There were few guards stationed around the campsite, yet they were unpracticed and ill-prepared for enemies with real military experience. By utilizing a distraction technique such as a minor explosion, mayhem would ensue, making it easier for the remaining members of their team to collect you within the chaos and escape back to the jailhouse.</p><p>However, your location was unknown at the time and keeping their identities hidden would prove itself essential in the long run for the safety of their regiment. For all they knew, you might not even be there at all. They were simply going off Armin’s hunch. </p><p>Back at the jailhouse, Armin had surmised they had recently transported you up the mountain, fresh tracks decorating the paths so clearly, it was almost <em>amateur</em>. It was clear to Jean now just how inexperienced and brainwashed the Military Police had become—they had gone through the trouble of paying off the Garrison to protect their confidentiality, yet couldn’t bother to cover their tracks? It was mildly concerning.</p><p>Once they arrived, Armin and Connie were stationed at the entrance of the trail, scouting the scene for any evidence or signs of your position. Yeager and himself were placed in a tree searching the campsite as well.</p><p>Jean didn’t like being paired up with the bastard initially, and he didn’t like to admit this, but he was now beginning to understand exactly how much you really meant to Eren. Jean first recognized Eren’s intent on protecting you when they were back at the jailhouse searching for evidence. Specifically, it was when Connie had found a single nightgown, torn and dirtied at random intervals, lying forgotten in the corner of a cell.</p><p>Yeager had to leave the room when they showed it to him. A mixture of guilt and fury would characterize his aura for the rest of the day.</p><p>The guy was so terrifyingly hell-bent on finding you, Jean thought he just might explode when Hanji asked him to scout the camp from a distance. Yeager was just too much of a “do” kind of person, and sitting in a tree, searching the grounds for his most beloved was going completely against his nature. </p><p>But years of tactical development soon won over his conscience and he reluctantly accepted the job. Jean could remember watching Eren from the corner of his eye—he could tell from the way Eren leant rigid against the oak tree, his fingertips gripping into the crevices that ran through the bark...the guy was <em>losing his mind.</em></p><p>But he did a good job keeping his cool. Hanji gave Eren her blessing—although, he didn’t seem to care whether he had it or not—to utilize his titan whenever he saw fit <em>after </em>they determined your location, but she asked that he keep the physical consequences in mind. With his lifespan coming so close to its end, they weren’t all that sure how he’d cope with the bodily strain.</p><p>Jean blinked, the rush of his thoughts overwhelming his system. What worried him was the events after the minor explosions. Mikasa and Hanji attempted to flee the scene, but Mikasa’s old and janky ODM gear malfunctioned and sent them toppling straight into another tent. In seconds they would be surrounded... </p><p>But Yeager caught sight of something in the distance creating ripples on the edge of the lake.</p><p>Armin and Connie hurried straight in to assist, armed to the teeth with pistols, and Jean was ready to sweep in and provide his team with backup as well. </p><p>But then <em>you</em> emerged from the water, crawling upon the shore, and that was when Jean and Eren realized you were making an escape on your own. You were smart to take advantage of their distraction; however, a batch of officers had spotted you as well and were dispatched to collect you. Not even a second passed and Eren was already leaping off the tree, and in that moment, Jean was forced to choose between helping his Survey Corps members or assisting Eren in the mission. </p><p>A shaky sigh pushed itself past his lips. Jean could only hope he hadn’t made the wrong decision by abandoning his friends. He had faith in their abilities, yet he knew he left them in a difficult position.</p><p>“We’re the same, you and I.” The bratty captain spoke up once again, making him sigh with great exasperation.</p><p>“...” </p><p>“You’re worried about your comrades back at my camp, aren’t you?” Jean blinked once at her insinuation.</p><p>“You’ve got a big mouth for someone who doesn’t know how to use it.”</p><p>“Oh please, and you’re different?” Her laugh unsettled him. He turned to survey her carefully.</p><p>Like one of his mother’s homemade sweater, she was. Beautifully composed and thoughtful in appearance, but itchy and irritable in comfort.</p><p>“—You ended up placing your mission before your comrades, just like me. And now the guilt of your actions is eating you alive, I can see it in the way you keep huffing to yourself.” She accused him so easily, no worry for what he might do. He slowly came to a stop and turned, towering over her with his height.</p><p>Her green eyes widened ever-so slightly as he leaned down to whisper.</p><p>“You know nothing about me.” He quoted her. </p><p>And with that, he turned and continued along the path, quickening his pace. He had to get back to the jailhouse as soon as possible. Despite the captain's teasing, he felt confident in his teammates' abilities. There was much to be done before they could set out looking for Yeager and (y/n), but whatever outcome, it lied within his control.</p><hr/><p>The egg yolk sun poured through the cracks of the cave and awaited entrance into your eyes. Sight still in the clutches of sleep, you hesitantly rubbed the dreams away. Thoughts of the visions in sleep come and go in waves, clinging on to the very last memory of the night with little success.</p><p>Waking up was no longer the pleasure it once was. There was a fleeting moment where you felt whole again, nestling your head into the warmth of your pillow, but it evaporates faster than the rain off the burnt earth. Then your lids that were drooping and leaden with exhaustion snap open as violently as if you’d been woken by the footsteps of titans.</p><p>The memories rushed back in piles, so quickly that it took you a few seconds to shuffle through each one. By the time your eyes were open, your brain had become overwhelmed all over again as if it were all new, fresh, raw. </p><p>Pain sears through your abdomen better than a branding iron, your mind conceding to the torment, unable to bring a thought to completion. Without meaning to your body curls into something fetal, something primeval and all the while the pain burns and radiates. A bullet would be a mercy right now, or maybe a sickly shot of morphine, but the best you can hope for is a distraction.</p><p>Your eyes registered the wet, dark walls of the cave, but most of your vision was set on the pale brown shirt pressed thick against your forehead. The memories of falling asleep in Eren’s arms return like a dream, almost too surreal to believe, yet you recognized his smell in close proximity. And despite the burning of your innards, you fight against the sensation of boiling water to lift yourself up on both arms and stare with impossibly wide eyes.</p><p>“Hello.” He cocked his head to the side, the slightest of smiles decorating his lips in one of the most devastating looks you had seen in a while. You see the titan marks around his eyes. It hadn't been long since you initially fell asleep.</p><p>A few hazelnut-brown strands fell poker-straight around his face, just a freed mass of hair falling over his shoulders. A gasp escaped you, and you quickly worked to twist in place, feeling the roughness of his pants against your wrists. You crawl on your hands and knees, pulling yourself up to raise your palm to rest along his forehead.</p><p>Eren was so sick that his complexion was ashen. His natural golden skin had sunken in tone to something so lifeless it scared you just to look at him. He closed his emerald eyes and sucked himself into a deeper place to cope, nuzzling his cheek into the coolness of your delicate fingers. </p><p>“You look terrible.” Your frown was ugly.</p><p>“Thanks,” he muttered out as well as he could, one emerald eye cracking open to stare. If it weren’t for the way his jaw was clenched so tight, you would have thought him to be nonchalant and uncaring of the pain he was feeling. You proceeded to stroke his ruffled hair and hold his hand. It barely seemed enough, yet his heart rate came down by almost twenty beats per minute. “I’ll be fine in time, this is normal,” he mumbled.</p><p>“It’s your curse,” you said lightly, your eyes dropping to look over his body, but mostly they remained fixed on his face in a soft stare.</p><p>He was in a dark place right now, felt more pain than a human body could bear, and it broke you to see him this way.</p><p>“I’ve always been fine with the nose bleeds but—” he coughed and paused to catch his breath, “but this is new for me.”</p><p>You nodded your head, seconds passed as he watched the cogs in your brain turn. You momentarily retracted yourself from him, standing so suddenly it shocked you both. “You need treatment,” you spoke quickly, shivering when you relieved yourself from his heated body. “I’ll find us some water.”</p><p>You turned your back on him, stumbling forward with two ankles ready to snap under your weight.</p><p>“Wait.” His voice was barely above a whisper, and his eyebrows lifted with surprise when you collapsed to your knees. Your hands splayed themselves forward, surely cutting themselves against the rough stone as you worked to stand once more. It was like you couldn’t hear him, pretending as though he wasn’t there. He knew you were ignoring him.</p><p>He scowled deeply at that, remembering once more what happened the last time he left you alone. “(Y/n). You can’t go out there.”</p><p>“And why not?” </p><p>Your chiding tone of sass was something he had yet to hear ever escape your lips, but from the way how you sniffled and worked to hide your face from him, he could tell how upset you must have been by seeing him this way. </p><p>A great sense of happiness flooded him at the nostalgia of you. He had forgotten what it felt like to be cared for by you.</p><p>“I don’t know if I can protect you from the Military Police in this state,” he warned quietly, lifting his left hand in your direction. Waves of heat coursed through his blood, a cold sweat glistening in his gaunt features. </p><p>“That’s no problem for me,” you said, wiping at the moisture forming in your eyes. “I can hide from them if necessary.” Your voice was a nasty croak, betraying you as you worked to conceal your distressing thoughts. If you couldn’t move as you were now, then who would take care of Eren? </p><p>“You’re being ridiculous,” Eren scoffed lightly from behind you, earning him a glare. He was just beginning to understand exactly how shattered and desperate you were—he had never seen the normally kind and amiable (y/n) give <em>anyone </em>such a look of contempt in his life. “You’re too weak to do anything right now. You can’t even hide yourself from me.”</p><p>“So what am I supposed to do then?” You asked. “Let you die?”</p><p>Eren chuckled, a laugh that reminded you of a rumbling earthquake. “This won’t kill me. I’m not lucky enough for that.”</p><p>Your shoulders become gravity-drawn, painting a picture of your heart as if neither it nor your soul would welcome a beat. He could see in your sparkling (e/c) eyes that your brain had built some new walls in the few days he was gone, so lonely on the other side and he immediately regretted his last sentence. </p><p>“Why would you say that?” You questioned, peering back from over your shoulder. You saw his left hand gesture you closer, but the most you were willing to do right now was spin into a sitting position. You rest with your knees drawn close to your chest, your back pressed against the wall opposite of him and next to the light of the entryway. </p><p>The cave was so tiny, you had to sit catty-corner to him, his legs extending to where his boots were lined up with your bruised and swollen ankles. </p><p>Eren’s rare smile morphed into a deepening scowl when you refused to return to him. He wasn’t going to let you go that easily, especially after the promise he made to himself to always keep his eyes on you. </p><p>He ignored your last question. “Don’t leave me alone.”</p><p>Your eyes shifted to the side again and became glazed with a glassy layer of tears. As you blinked, they dripped from your eyelids and slid down your cheeks. You bit your lip tightly in an attempt to hide any sound that wanted to escape from your mouth; his heart sank.</p><p>Your lower lip plumped outward and quivered as words slowly made their way out of your mouth. “You’re…” You began, yet what followed was engulfed in the tremors. “So now you don’t want to leave me?”</p><p>You watched him carefully, already knowing of how unfair it was to question him in this state. Your words were petty, and it was clear he recognized this as well. He didn’t respond, unwilling to let you mourn for him any longer than necessary, and waved you forward once more without a word. </p><p>The sigh you released was resigned and weary. It signaled the end of deliberate effort and the beginning of passiveness. It was a sigh so quiet it almost went unnoticed, its sound and movement dissipating into the walls of the cave and making no effect at all.</p><p>You did not move any closer.</p><p>Eren smiled slightly at this. “I never wanted to leave you in the first place.”</p><p>“...I know, I’m sorry.” You covered your face with both hands before clutching at your chest as if to calm your heart, enraptured in the softness of his eyes as they stared down on you. “I’m acting like a brat—.”</p><p>“No. I don’t think you do know.” He cut you off.</p><p>“I don’t?”</p><p>“You don’t.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I stayed with you even though I had no reason to after the first three days. What does that tell you?”</p><p>“I…” you hesitated, already knowing the answer but almost unwilling to admit it. “I wanted to give you a place to live in peace and hide. And...that was enough for me.”</p><p>“No. It was even more than that.” He had the audacity to smile the most beautiful smile you had ever witnessed. “Come on, little farm girl. Use that brain of yours. I’ve had enough of hiding from each other.”</p><p>You folded your arms at his light teasing, unwilling to give in. “I tried to stay out of your business, but now that our whole lives are destroyed, I deserve to know everything. And yet,” you paused, “your intentions have evaded me.”</p><p>Eren’s bluish-green eyes crinkled in his smile. “Alright. But just this once I will show you.”</p><p>His muscles flexed as he worked to sit forward, the color returning to his skin as newfound energy sparked within him. Out of instinct you attempt to stand, yet fall into a heap of limbs once more. His smirk widened ever-so slightly as he stalked forward, prompting you to work your way back. A little dance, forcing you into the corner. </p><p>You couldn’t back up anymore and just stared at Eren as he drew dangerously closer and closer. So close into your personal space that you breathed him in with every inhale.</p><p>“I need you to understand why I stayed.” Dimples you had never noticed before showed up in his cheeks, his emerald eyes softening and one hand reached out. His fingers caressed your face, the tips stroking your temple down to the curve of your jaw. A soft warm line burning and tingling on your skin like a wildfire. For another second, Eren locked eyes with you. “I stayed because of you. And that is why I'll never leave you from now on.”</p><p>You both sat in the corner of the cave on your knees, face to face, much like all that time ago in front of your barn. But this was different. <em>Much different.</em>  </p><p>Your breath stuttered. On the inside, you knew this all along. But to hear him admit it out loud sent butterflies soaring in your chest.</p><p>“Why?” you asked. “Why for me?”</p><p>He had the boldness to chuckle. “Do I really have to spell it out for you?”</p><p>Before you could protest, say or do something, <em>anything</em>, Eren leaned in. His lips descended upon yours, insistently pressing against them. Demanding your full attention, prompting you to gasp in shock and allow him to press closer. His hands curled around your upper arms, strong and tender all the same. His tongue flicked against your lips, only to suddenly retreat completely. Cooler air dried your lips. Your head spun. His body was too close.</p><p>So many emotions and feelings at once.</p><p>“Say something,” his whisper caressed your lips just like his mouth did merely a few seconds ago. “Anything, but I will kiss you again.”</p><p>He wanted to hear something from you. Just <em>something</em>, not something special.</p><p>Warmth curled in your stomach and chest as you looked straight into his eyes without fear, anxiety, or doubts on your mind. “More.”</p><p>There is no smile on his lips, only the hot intensity of his gaze that you both know was the start of the inferno to come. When he leaned in and his lips laid upon yours once more, you happily surrendered to him; to him and the raw feeling of being wanted. Blissful temptation made your toes curl and your fingers claw into the sleeves of his clothing as your eyes fluttered shut. No longer did your head and body ache nor did questions fill your mind. For once, your emotions felt calm and quiet. No confusion, no more questions. It felt good. You and Eren didn’t know what exactly you were doing, but it allowed you to catch a glimpse of the life you never dreamed of having the chance to live.</p><p>Before. Before this, before now.</p><p>A low moan escaped your mouth as you leaned forward. For the first time, you pushed back, moved and reacted. Into Eren’s body, your chest touching his as you arched into him. More heat curled in your stomach, spread and pulsed to the beat of your heart. Nothing else mattered but him. He filled every inch of your mind as you breathed him in with every inhale and relished in the smell of his personal scent. </p><p>His hands wandered; over your shoulders and down your arms. Every fingertip a little caress—each one a firework of sparkles and new emotions you never experienced before—that moved down to your hands, lacing his fingers between yours. Tugging you closer, his palm pressed against yours in a sweet, tender gesture of unity as he held your hand.</p><p>Just a few more moments. A little indulgence…</p><p>
  <em>No indulgence. This is serious.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I want this. I want him. I want him forever.</em>
</p><p>Instantly, you froze up when he pulled away and coughed roughly into his palm. You worked to rest him against the wall once more, your cheeks flushing red just as soon as you pulled apart. How worked up you were over the terrible things you just did! Your lips were still tingling from his touch, and your hands flexed around the phantom image of his hands in yours. God, it was dangerous to think like this. And in a place like this after the military had sent you both careening off a cliff?</p><p>His face was curling up in agony now, his arms reaching out for you in hopes you might cool his body down from the unbearable heat. You were too quick, however, and moved from his grasp.</p><p>“You are sick, Eren. I need to get you some water while we wait for Jean,” you said.</p><p>You almost wondered if he was acting so romantic and needy because he was sick, nearly chuckling to yourself as a sense of extreme elation filled you all the way to your fingers and toes. </p><p>Eren was normally all logic and cool detachment until he touched your skin. Something not only stirred in him, but it took over his thinking. The rest of his world became an unimportant blur that was banished into the far recesses of his mind. The only thing that mattered was touching you more, kissing your mouth, feeling your soft hair against his cheeks. He tried to be gentle, but it was hard. His hands were made for fighting and building rather than tiny clasps.</p><p>“You’ll heal me with your presence,” he mumbled but was far too exhausted to do anything about it. His emerald orbs disappeared from your sight, and soon he was fast asleep once more.</p><p>Whatever just happened must have been an act of his fever dream, you thought, or maybe a product of thinking you were dead for the last few days. You still had many questions for Eren on how he knew where to find you and why Jean was with him. You wanted to know how much time he had left, but these things would have to wait until you knew for sure the both of you were safe.  </p><p>You stood and rested yourself against the wall of the cave, your head ducked down to follow the length of the ceiling. This just might be the death of you, the way the pain snaked its way from your abdomen to your belly, but at least you could open and see with both eyes again. You emerged from the cave and look to your right to find ivory white bones resting clumped together in a heap, a product of Eren’s deteriorated titan. </p><p>You would have to wait things out until Jean could save you. Until then—</p><p>Your fingers lifted to brush against pinkened lips.</p><p>—Eren’s and your life were in your hands.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A.N.: Woah, long time no see, everybody! So many wonderful things have been happening in my life! I passed my test with no problems, and I have been working real hard at my job! I bought my first house, and I'm currently in the process of moving all my crap in! Season 4 came out yesterday, and oh my gosh, I'm really super excited! More of the manga came out as well, and I immediately realized that my story is no longer canon lololol so that kind of threw me off a little as I debated changing this story. I won't give out spoilers, but one day I'm sure you guys will read this and say "ooooh, why is this happening?" LOL but I decided I would leave it as is because I'm liking the way how things are now.</p><p>I've read over everyone's comments, and I am so utterly astonished by how wonderful you all are. Even months after my last post, you guys have remained so faithful and patient with me, and it completely throws my heart in loops. Thank you so much my friends. I really cannot express how truly thankful I am for you all. I hope you all really enjoy this chapter, and let me know what you think about Eren's sudden fever-induced love fest! Or was it fever-induced? Guess we'll find out! LMAO</p><p>(Side note: I did not do a very good job proof-reading this because I wanted to get it out before work, so let's hope its still good!)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Weaving through a pair of saplings, you blinked slowly and the sun touched blown pupils. Lithe fingers curled curiously around lengthy vegetation, and you considered how many generations of trees were around this part of the mountain. The woods were sort of binary—the open areas were very, very neat and the closed off ones were very, very wild. You liked it that way, the two extremes enhancing one another. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a great distraction. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You hated the way your sweat drenched your clothes, the throbbing of your own eyes, the thumping of your heart against your chest. Fingers shaped themselves into a fist, broken nails digging crescents into palms as you considered the time you had spent wandering the forest edge for some sort of sustenance. You couldn’t hear your rapid breathing, but you could feel the oxygen flooding in and out of your lungs at a far more rapid pace than normal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sun was approximately three handbreadths above the horizon now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hesitantly, your eyes locked onto a dead squirrel before you. The size of the puncture wounds in the rodent’s freshly bloodied neck were large. Guilt, mixed with specks of fear, tortured your guts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What animal did this?” You murmured. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a shake of the head, you tried to ease the churning cramps of your stomach and rolled up your sleeves, the nip of the new season fresh against your limbs. Mindful of the diseases that could be carried in its carcass, you plucked a few large purple-bronze leaves from a nearby bush and proceeded to wrap the squirrel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The complexion of your skin was so ghastly in the afternoon glow, it was difficult to miss. In comparison to the scratches, the worst of the wounds was the split flesh of your wrists and the blooming purple patches decorated by spurts of dried, brownish-red blood. It wasn’t much when compared to the bubbling of your stomach—which had you crippled against the forest trees for the last few hours—but it was enough to keep you uncomfortable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The burning suddenly flared, and you cursed your thoughts for even bringing up the subject. You couldn’t stop now. You had already spent far too long away from the cave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the fear of being unable to help Eren in your state engulfed your conscience, knocking all other thoughts aside. You were utterly overwhelmed and drastically exhausted. Should you turn around now?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If it weren’t for the mind-numbing pain or the thought of his slight smile, you would have soon set on returning the direction you had come, in all honesty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So you shuffled along the tree line, focusing on keeping your pace steady amongst the gale. As the days of Autumn wane, the winter nights were closing in with a chill that crept into your clothes. The wide avenue you traveled was adorned with a view you would have found beautiful if you were actually paying attention. With the mountain side lining the path to your left; and the trees, your right, you considered traveling deeper into the forest in search of water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You shivered at the thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Between the Military Police and the potential visit of a mountain lion or bear, you had your hands full. You weren’t sure how comfortable you would be traveling without a weapon, but when it came down to it, water was truly a necessity. Rescue would not come for a few days, and you were more than ready to do whatever it took to save Eren in this state.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your cheeks were suddenly kissed pink like a rose, the blooming color vibrant despite how battered your features were. Your eyes grew soft at the thought of what had transpired just a few hours before and your chin was now tucked low within the collar of your coat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Coughing to hide your silent smile from no one in particular.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deliberately treading on some leaves to listen to the crunch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Did you really say </span>
  <em>
    <span>those </span>
  </em>
  <span>sorts of things to Eren earlier? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You paused your painful limping to lean yourself onto the bark of a tall tree and stared at the toes of your boots. Mindlessly, your fingers lifted to hover over dried lips, and you slowly grew mortified by your sudden neediness and dependency on Eren.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Did that desperate kiss of affection make you lovers? He showed a love you thought long extinguished from this world, yet there he was, tackling and sweeping you into an embrace you never believed him capable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His touch was energy and all that he could be was home. You could feel yourself holding onto him now, even when sinister whispers spoke ill of him in your mind, for you saw his soul this one precious morning in that cave and it will forever live within you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You decided after a quiet moment that for all the time you had left, you were his. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a firming nod, you swayed forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In one hour, you returned to peek your head in the depression of the mountainside, finding Eren still slumped against the wall. You dropped the game you found just outside the entrance, moving forward to kneel before his tall figure. Your hand raised to brush the length of his hair from his face and tuck the strands behind his ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His features were much softer in sleep, the lines that usually creased his brow replaced by the youthful appearance that matched those of others your age. His lips were downturned into his usual scowl, the nostalgia striking. Eren’s breath was slightly ragged, his skin like fire to the touch. You placed your head against his chest to listen for his beating heart, eyes swelling when you heard it pounding viciously against his ribcage. His pulse pressed outward and jerked the veins within.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wanting nothing more than to curl up into the curve of his body, you turned and exited the cave with newfound energy. First you would build a fire to smoke the squirrel you had stolen. Next came entering the forest in search of a water source. Animals always knew where water was, so you would have to remain vigilant when looking for wildlife or animal tracks. Lush green vegetation was also a good sign, but with the plants dying off, your best chance was to search those that remained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You remembered a few things about surviving nature during your time in the cadets. It was actually during your second year of training when they shipped you off into the southern forests of Wall Rose with nothing but the clothes on your back and left you there for a week in groups of four. It was a horrendous experience, but you were stuck with Annie Leonhart in your group, and despite her laziness and unforgiving attitude, her shining moment came when she brought down a boar twice her size for you all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, limp extremities croaked and cracked under the pressure of your body. You cringed at the feeling of your left ankle taking too much of your weight, your knees buckling as you fell ungraciously to the muddy earth. With the speed of a sloth, you eventually rose and continued your trek to the wreckage of Eren’s titan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You wondered silently if Annie was still alive, but the downturn of your gaze was enough of an answer for that thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your tired form navigated broken, gnarled branches, collecting twigs and wood that had snapped clean from the tree trunks after Eren’s landing the night before. Your quiet whimpers were slowly lost to the thinning air, for nature was unforgiving and took little pity on those subject to its devices.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before long, you were perched with legs crossed, intricately placing sticks to form a cone. It was a few meters from the mountainside, offering enough space to keep the smoke out of your tiny cave. The smoke would blend well with the rocks, so you weren’t particularly worried of anyone spotting your location.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If only I had a match,” you sighed. It was simple starting fires in your farmhouse when all you had to do was use a quick flick of your wrist to set things along. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You worked tirelessly, rubbing your hands back and forth until the skin was tattooed upon the stick you selected to be your starter. The dry grass and leaves were far too cold to pick up any sort of spark. You spent your first hour attempting to light the flames within your cone of kindling but realized soon enough that it’d be far more pragmatic to start the fire away from your setup. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Eren wasn’t dead asleep in the cave right now, he’d probably be teasing you for trying to spin the fire starter within your fire’s base. It took you three times of knocking over your set up before you would realize it was best to ignite a spark away from the flimsy structure before introducing it to your cone of twigs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The white shafts of daylight passed, and gone were the shadows of both afternoon and evening. Your wood and leaves were growing damp now, the moisture making it impossible to ignite the flames of heat your tired and aching body craved at this point. You had grown so caught up in your ministrations that night had fallen. It was too late to bother searching for a water source. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your frown was immediate. The palms of your hands find their way to the curves of your cheeks, and your fingers shield your eyes from the dark forest. You sat there for a long time with your head in your hands, listening to the steady release of your breath mixed with the creaking of tree branches. Black melted into gray, brightening the shine of stars in your vision as your body begged for water and nutrition. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Damn, you hated fire. You hated it </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>much. It was only a convenience when stealing everything you’ve ever known and loved. Now it dodged you during the time when you needed it most. It was almost deliberately cruel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You gathered the courage to release your face, wishing for the smell of smoke rather than a rotten squirrel carcass you failed to preserve. After sitting cross-legged for so long, your legs whined angrily as you pulled yourself to a stand. There wasn’t much good that came out of today, but disappointment evaded you the second you shuffled into the cave to find Eren huffing lightly in his sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were suddenly drowsy, kind of like an eclipse in a strange sense of the phrase. The back of your brain was awake as you swayed forward in the brunette’s direction; however, the soldiers in the front of your brain blocked your vision so that you couldn’t for the life of you operate your legs to carry you properly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fall you experienced this time wasn’t like the others. Before, your legs were far too much like the sweet gelatin Mr. Fairfax would make in the evening time for his late-night sweet-toothers. Your legs had grown accustomed to their weak shuffling now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ow.” You collapsed in a heap to Eren’s left, your forehead hitting his shoulder harder than intended. “Shoot…” The swelling from your left eye had finally relaxed, but you could tell it was irritated by your careless movements. Your shoulders relaxed themselves along the cold stone wall, which was surprisingly soothing to the scars along the flesh of your upper back. Carefully, you lifted your hand to feel along the curve of your left eye, half-expecting blood to flow thickly over your fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You exhaled a sigh of relief when you pulled back to find nothing but dirt and chipped nails. Hopefully, your aches and pains will heal in your sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A shiver danced along your curled up form, half-lidded eyes sweeping lowly to inspect the sleeping man mere inches from your skin. His brow was furled neatly over eyelids shut so tight they began to fidget and shudder from the bullish force, as if the very corner of his eyes were being pricked with a needle. His breath rushed past flared nostrils in hushed agony, and in seconds, your arms were wrapped around his shoulders and pulling him close in hopes to chase away his suffering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The freezing air disappeared immediately upon contact with Eren’s boiling temperatures. His forehead drove itself into the crook of your neck, a response that had you gripping tightly onto him. You were freezing, and he was seething. The inversion of your body heat was enough to keep you two wrapped up in one another in hopes to find a stable equilibrium.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Things aren’t looking good,” you mumbled against his hair. Briefly, you stared at the dancing shadows along the far wall and waited for an answer you knew would never come. “I don’t know if I can move anymore.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A spurt of breath spilled past your lips, your head falling back to press against stone. Similar to the consistency of butter, the thoughts in your head melted away with every blink. As uncomfortable as you were, what with the lack of comfort and Eren’s weight against your chest difficult to breathe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were so tired. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unbelievably so.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will you wake up now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A time not too long ago, pulling words from this man was like drawing the sturdy string of an ancient bow that had been dormant for millenia. Tough, daunting, requiring patience with steady breath and hands. Your fingers would slip at times, yet you held steady and recovered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your eyes were misty, staring down at your wrists, remembering a darker time when the itch and scratch of rope were bound around them. You run a thumb along your inner wrist, over the webbing veins and blood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren never stirred, and your voice was faded to a quiet hush:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Was it all worth it? You’ll tell me what happened these last eight years, won’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Regardless, Eren did not awake, and that, yes, left you filled with a feeling of odd freedom. He’s answered enough as it is, and a part of you feels fortunate to receive even this much from him. There were always a million words and none in his eyes, for his story was one that could only be told at a deeper level.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t long before your thoughts turned to static, and you finally collapsed under the breeding of each black and white particle. Your eyes close.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Today the light was oddly bright, casting the birds into dark shadows against a sky of pale blue. Their wings beat, hugging the air as they drift on unseen thermals, left behind by their family in journey to warmer temperatures. For a few moments, they have your eye just outside the cave, keeping you spun into some sort of daydream. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After so long in the cave-like depression, your retinas were unaccustomed to any light at all. A few minutes later, you’re peeking through the hood of your fingers and struck at how the world was still so gray even bathed in sunlight. Falling leaves that were once the only splashes of color were extinguished and muted against muddied dirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your legs carried you deep into the forest, difficult and demanding. For hours, they served you faithfully, so the moment you stumbled upon the roots of trees, they worked hard to keep you upright. The unbearable desert of your throat was dry and sore; every lungful of hot air robbed more water from your body. There was a pain at the back of your head which threatened to grow into a powerful migraine, a sure sign that dehydration wasn’t far away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If you had a liter of water right now, you’d drain the whole thing. But as it was, you have none. And it was a long walk to find some.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>How long has it been?</span>
  </em>
  <span> You wondered, progressing further and further into the forest. Even if your search for water was unsuccessful, you at least hoped to stumble upon civilization, far more terrified by the knowledge of what </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> happen if no one were to find you than what </span>
  <em>
    <span>will </span>
  </em>
  <span>happen if dehydration were to occur.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite this ever-present anxiety, you remained fervid in your search for water, eventually rewarded with the discovery of a river by the afternoon of your third day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your features brightened as clear as the sun, because into the steady rising light, into the watery chill of the air, came the river of the forest, this great and gliding dame. Your pants were soaked as you rushed to gather this golden liquid in your palms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The water was crisp and biting with each desperate scoop. The corners of your mouth ache, but you don’t care. Once your gullet was finally, properly wettened, you took a seat in a patch of crabgrass, a great smile rivaling that of a clown’s the only action you’re capable of producing. Soon enough, your giggles filled the forest air, calling up to the forest boughs as much as the river itself. It’d be safe to assume you had lost what little remained of your rationale. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You remembered then the river bed the Garrison jailhouse was built upon, suddenly curious to how far this stream trailed from the mountain. Maybe if you followed it, you’d be able to find your way back to Blackstone Valley? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Next thing you know, you’re removing your boots and dipping them into the river a few times, careful to wash them before raising them to see if water would leak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not a drop escaped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So you begin the trek to return to Eren, and the cold moved in only to meet the warmth of your blood, your defense against such ice. Your socks were immediately ruined, but this was the only way you could safely carry water back to your fever-wrecked companion resting in the cave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not like frostbite is much of an issue,” you murmured through pants, growing stronger once your swollen left foot grew numb to the pain; the right, numb for years before and years to come.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You feel the cold wash over your skin, again and again, only to be met by the beat of your heart, again and again. The truth was, as hard as it was, that so long as you keep moving, you’ll win. The ones who stop were the ones who freeze; the victors reach safety because one foot always moves in front of the other in defiance to the wind, in a rage against the early winter blasts, at ease with the volcano that breathes from deep within.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A swim in the lake was more difficult than this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was dark by the time you returned once more to your cave. Eren was curled against the far wall, exactly as you left him. Shells of nuts lay discarded where you had cracked them open to feast upon their contents, and now, your needs were somewhat satisfied with the introduction of water to your system.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You find your place kneeling by his side, hands folded gently along your thighs and bottom resting upon chilled heels. Your boots—filled with the life-saving juice—were discarded carefully by the doorway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He slept for two whole days, and not the calm sleep of speedy recovery and peaceful nothingness, no. Fever wrecked through his body, making him toss and turn at times, and writhe and whimper like a wounded wolf. In his sleep, Eren kept on thrashing around, fighting off enemies inside his head and the well-meaning hand of yours outside of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beside the various bruises he accidentally gave to you, he was bearable once more. Apart from the occasional mumble, whine, or rare scream, Eren was on his best behavior now. Nevertheless, you didn’t dare let him out of your sight for a single second just in case he might wake up in your presence. You didn’t want to imagine the chaos washing over the forest if Eren would wake up without you to hold him back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No one else but you stood a single chance against him, and even your chance was abysmal and laughably small in comparison to his strength.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thus, now that you have gathered the supply necessary for survival, it was safe for you to remain present at his side at all times.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All he had to do now was wake up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You continued to do some of your self-assigned chores while guarding and watching over the injured Eren from the harm already done and the potential harm he could inflict. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His temperature remained, the bursting out of some invisible virus from his cells in waves. After all, real battles, internal and external, come only when one’s hand was forced and a potentially fatal outcome was a necessary risk. The most you could do to keep him cool was press your palm against his forehead, his face naturally nuzzling into your hand out of primitive instinct. His skin was especially pallor and moist with sweat now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You feared this could be his end. His deathbed, this sad little cave, when it should be a place he felt cozy and warm, with those he loved. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was in the middle of the third night when he finally awoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You entered the cave after sparking a fire just outside, unable to sleep with the howling of wind ever present in your ears. You circled Eren’s makeshift bed on your tiptoes, watching him from the corner of your vision. In his sleep, Eren appeared...small. His entire being seemed to fill the air around him once upon a time, fill every room and every breath someone else took in his proximity. He was once larger than life when he was awake, but now…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He seemed so small. So hurt. So pained. His face was still pale enough to nearly mistake him for a ghost, and when you dared to peek underneath his shirt to watch for the telltale rise and fall of his chest, you could see a scar along his pectoral that refused to heal, one that he must have received during his time working on your farm. A month of time hadn’t been nearly enough to allow this scar to heal, attributing to how weak his body had become from the curse placed upon him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t know,” warm breath ghosted over the side of your face, “that peeking at defenseless, sleeping men was something you enjoyed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A gasp escaped you when you twitched backwards. His shirt fell and covered up the gruesome truth. Your head turned, and your eyes met Eren’s half-lidded ones. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was checking your breathing,” you explained quickly, although the pink dusting your cheeks told another story, “I didn’t—!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did.” His gravely, sleep-ridden voice teased, his arms lifted to grab you by the back of your neck and shoulder and tugged to bring you close, impossibly close, within his arms. Quietly, he mumbled in your ear, “I don’t mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eren! J-just wait—!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t wait.” He drove his unbearably hot face deep into the crook of your neck. In that simple moment, he wrapped his arms further around you, forcing you to lay your upper body flat along his chest, your face pressed flush in his hair as he breathed your scent. All your thoughts stopped as if your heart took over. Next he would squeeze as if he needed to check if you were really there with him, really there and really real.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He easily closed the little bit of merciful distance you created between the two of you. He was too close. God, you could also smell it. His scent, deeply personal and strong, so close in his personal space the tip of your nose was now nearly touching his cheek. Something deep and musky, intoxicating in its own right, woven in between the smell of sweat and earth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If it weren’t for the great relief of knowing he was alive and survived the perils of transformation so close to the end of his years, you would have struggled against his hold and demanded he let you hear his story. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And yet, he was here, staring at you with his deep, intense eyes, and a little cheeky smile tugging at the corner of his mouth where his frown normally lay. Like he could read your thoughts, knew what you were thinking about, and what you both instinctively craved for with sudden but wild curiosity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How would it feel to be his? Just for one night, for a few hours before it would be too late? How would it feel to lie below him, to be filled and stretched out? How would it feel to sit in his lap, his lips caressing yours only to wander lower, to your neck and collarbones, to your breasts and stomach?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How would it feel?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Enough. Enough of this nonsense.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deliberately slow, you pulled away. The little spark of knowing in his eyes vanished, just before Eren turned his head on the pillow to peer curiously into your face. Brown hair was pushed back by your hand, a grunt reached your ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long was I out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Three days, give or take.” You smiled, falling back on your bottom for your hands to fold themselves in your lap. Eren watched you wearily, and his eyes flashed with a streak of...disappointment?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess that’s why I feel so thirsty,” he commented, a short cough rising from the depths of his lungs, congested and noisy. He worked to spit whatever sat unwanted in the back of his throat, his saliva dyed an ominous, serosanguineous color.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I found water while you were asleep,” you told him and prepared to stand, only to be stopped by his fingers seizing your dirtied shirt. Your eyes widened and lips parted at the feeling, and Eren looked at you with something that made you feel desperate to give him comfort.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You left the cave on your own?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Although posed as a question for you, he really only meant to question his own understanding of the time that had passed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His blue-green eyes seemed to study you in silence then, the reality of your situation finally crashing down around him in a world of flaming debris. He recognized the difficult circumstances he placed you in, the strife you faced when given an ultimatum. The three days he spent in a coma was littered with terror-filled expectancy on your part, and in a few seconds, he seemed to read every ounce of fear and pain you endured just from the tired expression you were unable to hide.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>For three days, you tolerated the storm, withstood your pessimism and cared for him relentlessly in a way no one had ever done before. Even after he left you behind to face the torment and persecution of the MPs. Even after he saved you, only to abandon you once more in his sickly predicament. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once again, he couldn't protect you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But of course. All you did was show him those open and loving eyes, touched him with those gentle hands and made him anew, not as clay, but as if his body could be reborn in its most perfect form. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You could tell what he was thinking, for those thoughts morphed his image into a look of deep wrath for himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s just work on making you stronger,” you told him. Your concern for him was evidence of your loving bond, and you hoped he received it as such. There was no need for apologies, only unspoken promises to be made.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren’s voice made you pause. His tone was urgent, low yet unbothered. But his words. Oh, his words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are the reason I will survive. I’ll make sure of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As if space and time became the finest point imaginable, as if time collapsed into one tiny speck and exploded at light speed. It’s as if his universe began and ended with you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His words were impossible to believe, but you believed them anyway. You knew you did by the way how hope bloomed in your chest. You could run forever, search forever, but in the end, every path led right back to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The stress spilled over and out then. He rose to rest on his elbows just in time to catch your arms around his neck, wailing in a mixture of great happiness and mourning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How much longer?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He understood your question without further elaboration.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Two weeks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How will you survive?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren pushed himself up further, your arms retracting to help him rest his shoulders upon the stony wall of your residency these last three days. The cave was a sanctuary in the storm, a calm place to regroup and become stronger. It was dark, but the entrance offered just enough light to splash upon the features of Eren’s angular visage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked stronger now, his vigor increased through willpower and his spirit alone. Gone was the silent depression plaguing his every thought, gone was his inner turmoil on whether he even deserved to live in the first place. Your eyes widened at the sight of the old Eren happily combining his consciousness with the new Eren. They danced in unison and acceptance for one another, especially in the way how Eren’s bright green eyes burned fiercely with a determination renewed by sin and no longer smothered by it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He drew up a single knee to rest his elbow along, his other arm smoothing his hair back from his face. His lips moved and you didn’t quite process what he was saying until moments after:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re going to the source of the curse, herself.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Wow! Look at how many people have started to follow this story! I am so incredibly blessed, and it brings me great joy to know how united we all are in the name of love for Eren Yeager LOL :)</p><p>Such lengthy periods of time between updates, shame on me T.T But I hope you all are enjoying the final season now that it's out for us all to see! There's still so much to come, and I pray I will do you all justice with this story! I still have much to write, and the fact you all have stuck around this long brings tears to my eyes. I think what's kept me going the most is periodically checking back in to find your comments encouraging me to keep going! There were a few recent ones I read that gave me the final push I needed to continue on with my writing! So thank you so so much for always supporting me! I'll see you all in the next chapter!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Don't know if y'all have seen, but Eren got damn sexy in the latest manga chapters lol. He's also a complete maniac now too so that's always cool--I'm still in the process of deciding how I wanna feel about it. Season 4 of AOT doesn't come out until the end of 2020, so to give me something to indulge in while I wait for more chapters, here we are! This story takes place after the conclusion of the "rumbling" which I will try not to talk too much about since spoilers, but I mean you're reading this story, soooo whatever lol. Mind you, the manga has yet to be completed, so this is my take on what Eren does after he completes his mission/goal in life.</p><p>I will have to change the rating to explicit soon because I do plan on throwing some nastiness in here because lemons are something I enjoy writing, but until then, let's keep it PG-13 because build-ups are the best.</p><p>Please consider leaving me a comment or some criticism because I thrive on reading what you all have to say! I love connecting with my readers, and in these next few chapters, you're soon gonna learn how much I love to hype up how beautiful and perfect y'all are.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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